n^ 


GEORGE  MASON, 

, 


THE 


YOUNG   BACKWOODSMAN; 


OR 


«  DON'T  GIVE  UP  THE  SHIP.' 


A  STORY  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  '  FRANCIS  BERRIAN.' 


BOSTON: 
HILLIARD,  GRAY,  LITTLE,  AND  WILKINS. 

1829, 


DISTRICT  OF  MASSACHUSETTS,  TO  WIT  : 

District  Clerk's  Office. 

BE  it  remembered,  that  on  the  twenty-third  day  of  January,  A.  D. 
1829,  and  in  the  fifty-third  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United 
States  of  America,  William  Hilliard,  of  the  said  district,  has  deposited  in 
this  office  the  title  of  a  book,  the  right  whereof  he  claims  as  proprietor, 
in  the  words  following,  viz. 

((  George  Mason,  the  Young  Backwoodsman  ;  or  '  Don't  give  up 
the  Ship.'  A  Story  of  the  Mississippi.  By  the  Author  of  '  JFVc;iCi$ 
Berrian.' " 

In  conformity  to  the  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  enti 
tled,  "  An  Act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies 
of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  su ••}'. 
copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned  :  "  and  also  to  an  Act,  en 
titled,  "  An  Act  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled,  *  An  Act  for  the  en 
couragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  maps,  charts,  and 
books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  times 
therein  mentioned ; '  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of 
designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

JNO.  W.  DAVIS, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE : 
HILLIARD.  METCALF,  AND  CO. 


GEORGE  MASON. 


CHAPTER  I. 

»t 

I  drag  alone  my  load  of  care, 

For  silent,  low,  on  beds  of  dust, 

Lie  all,  who  should  my  sorrows  share. 

WIDOW,  who  weepest  sore  in  the  night,  and  whose 
tears  are  on  thy  cheeks,  because  thy  young  children  are 
fatherless,  and  the  husband  of  thy  bosom  and  thy  youth 
in  the  dust,  dry  thy  tears.  Remember  Him,  who  hath 
promised  to  be  the  husband  of  the  widow,  and  take 
courage.  Orphan,  who  hast  seen  thy  venerated  father 
taken  from  thee  by  the  rude  hand  of  death,  and  whose 
thought  is,  that  in  the  wide  world,  there  is  none  to  love, 
pity,  or  protect  thee,  forget  not  the  gracious  Being,  who 
has  promised  to  be  a  father  to  the  orphan,  and  remem 
ber,  that  thy  business  in  life  is,  not  to  give  up  to  weak 
and  enervating  despondence,  and  waste  thy  strength  in 
sorrow  and  tears.  Life  is  neither  an  anthem  nor  a 
funeral  hymn,  but  an  assigned  task  of  discipline  and 
struggle,  and  thou  hast  to  gird  thyself,  and  go  to  thy 
duty  in  the  strength  of  God.  I  write  for  the  young, 
the  poor,  and  the  desolate;  and  the  moral  and  the  max 
im  which  I  wish  to  inculcate  is,  that  we  ought  never  to 

M117264 


/  ,  '.   .GEORGE  MASON, 

despond,  either  in  our  religious  or  our  temporal  trials. 
To  parents  I  would  say,  inculcate  the  spirit,  the  duties, 
and  the  hopes  of  religion  upon  your  children  in  the 
morning  and  the  evening,  in  the  house  and  by  the  way. 
Instil  decision  and  moral  courage  into  their  young  bo 
soms.  Teach  them  incessantly  the  grand  maxim — self- 
respect.  It  will  go  farther  to  gain  them  respect,  and 
render  them  deserving  of  it,  than  the  bequeathed  stores 
of  hoarded  coffers.  A  child,  deeply  imbued  with  seif- 
respect,  will  never  disgrace  his  parents.  The  inculca 
tion  of  this  single  point  includes,  in  my  view,  the  best 
scope  of  education.  If  my  powers  corresponded  to  my 
wishes,  I  would  impress  these  thoughts  in  the  following 
brief  and  unpretending  story.  The  reader  will  see,  if 
he  knows  the  country,  where  it  is  laid,  as  I  do,  that  it 
is  true  to  nature.  He  will  comprehend  my  motive  for 
not  being  more  explicit  on  many  points ;  and  he  will  not 
turn  away  with  indifference  from  the  short  and  simple 
annals  of  the  poor,  for  he  will  remember,  that  nine  in 
ten  of  our  brethren  of  the  human  race  are  of  that  class. 
He  will  not  dare  to  despise  the  lowly  tenants  of  the  val 
ley,  where  the  Almighty,  in  his  wisdom,  has  seen  fit  to 
place  the  great  mass  of  our  race.  It  has  been  for  ages 
the  wicked,  and  unfeeling,  and  stupid  habit  of  writers, 
in  selecting  their  scenery  and  their  examples,  to  act  as 
if  they  supposed  that  the  rich,  the  titled,  and  the  dis 
tinguished,  who  dwell  in  mansions,  and  fare  sumptuously 
every  day,  were  the  only  persons,  who  could  display 
noble  thinking  and  acting  ;  that  they  were  the  only  char 
acters,  whose  loves,  hopes,  fortunes,  sufferings,  and 
deeds  had  any  thing  in  them,  worthy  of  interest,  or 
sympathy.  Who,  in  reading  about  these  favorites  of 
fortune,  remembers  that  they  constitute  but  one  in  ten 
thousand  of  the  species  ?  Even  those  of  humble  name 
and  fortunes  have  finally  caught  the  debasing  and  en 
slaving  prejudice  themselves,  and  exult  in  the  actions, 
and  shed  tears  of  sympathy  over  the  sorrows  of  the 
titled  and  the  gre%t,  which,  had  they  been  recorded  of 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  ^ 

those  in  their  own  walk  of  life,  would  have  been  viewed 
either  with  indifference  or  disgust.  I  well  know  that 
the  poor  can  act  as  nobly,  and  suffer  as  bitterly  and 
keenly  as  the  rich.  There  is  as  much  strength  and 
force  and  truth  of  affection  in  cottages  as  in  palaces. 
I  am  a  man,  and  as  such,  am  affected  with  the  noble 
actions,  the  joys  and  sorrows,  the  love  and  death  of  the 
obscure,  as  much  as  of  the  great.  If  there  be  any  dif 
ference,  the  deeds,  affections,  fortunes,  and  sufferings  of 
the  former  have  more  interest ;  for  they  are  unprompted 
by  vanity,  unblazoned  by  fame,  unobscured  by  affecta 
tion,  unalloyed  by  pride  and  avarice.  The  actings  of 
the  heart  are  sincere,  simple,  single.  God  alone  has 
touched  the  pendulum  with  his  finger,  and  the  vibra 
tions  are  invariably  true  to  the  purpose  of  Him  who 
made^the  movement.  If,  therefore,  reader,  you  feel 
with  me,  you  will  not  turn  away  with  indifference  from 
this,  my  tale,  because  you  are  forewarned,  that  none  of 
the  personages  are  rich  or  distinguished.  You  will  be 
lieve,  that  a  noble  heart  can  swell  in  a  bosom  clad  in 
the  meanest  habiliments.  You  will  admit  the  truth  as 
well  as  the  beauty  of  the  poet's  declaration,  respecting 
the  gems  of  the  sea,  and  the  roses  that  "  waste  their 
sweetness  on  the  desert  air ;"  and  you  will  believe, 
that  incidents,  full  of  tender  and  solemn  interest,  have 
occurred  in  a  log  cabin  in  the  forests  of  the  Missis 
sippi. 

In  the  year  1816,  the  Rev.  George  Mason  arrived 
towards  sunset  at  a  settlement,  eight  miles  south  of  the 
Iron  Banks,  in  what  is  commonly  called  the  Jackson 
Purchase,  on  the  lower  Mississippi.  The  family  had 
emigrated  from  New-England,  and  consisted  of  this 
gentleman,  a  man  of  dignified  appearance,  though  in 
dicating  fatigue,  exhaustion,  and  feeble  health,  and  turn 
ed  of  forty  years  ;  his  lady,  with  a  complexion  which 
had  originally  been  as  fair  as  a  lily,  but  now  browned 
by  the  suns  of  a  long  journey,  in  the  warmer  days  of 
Autumn,  and  with  an  expression  of  sweetness,  rendered 
i* 


GEORGE  MASON, 

interesting  by  a  strong  touch  of  care  and  sorrow,  and 
whose  age,  from  appearance,  might  be  thirty-five  ;  and 
five  children,  four  sons  and  a  daughter.  George,  the 
hero  of  this  story,  was  a  fair,  white-headed,  blue-eyed 
boy  of  fourteen  ;  Eliza,  a  sweet  little  girl  of  twelve, 
with  a  keen  black  eye,  a  face  of  Italian  contour,  and 
slightly  olive.  Glossy  ringlets  of  black  hair  curled  in 
her  neck.  A  shrinking  and  timid  manner  evidenced 
natural  sensibility,  the  seclusion  and  retirement,  in 
which  she  had  been  reared,  and  the  rough  people, 
from  whom  she  had  recently  shrunk,  on  a  journey  of 
sixteen  hundred  miles.  Henry,  Thomas,  and  William 
were  eight,  six,  and  four  years  old.  It  was  a  group,  in 
whrch  the  parents  were  of  uncommon  interest,  and  the 
children  lovely,  beyond  what  I  wish  to  describe  ;  be 
cause  I  would  avoid  expressions,  that  might  seej^i  ex 
travagant.  They  had  that  singular  expression  of  min 
gled  pride  and  lowliness,  which  is  apt  to  be  marked 
upon  the  countenance  and  manner  of  the  children  of 
ministers,  who  constitute  the  connecting  link  between 
the  rich  and  the  poor  ;  their  education,  arid  the  stand 
ing  annexed  to  the  profession,  placing  them  on  a 
level  with  the  rich  ;  and  the  scantiness  and  precari- 
ousness  of  their  subsistence  placing  them  distinctly  on 
the  footing  of  the  poor.  It  was  obvious,  from  their  fa 
tigued  and  weather-beaten  appearance,  and  their  being 
apparently  much  exhausted,  that  jhey  had  travelled  a 
long  way.  A  slight  inspection  of  their  dress,  and  the 
hired  wagon  that  had  brought  them  and  their  effects 
from  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  where  they  had  de 
barked  from  a  flat  boat,  manifested  that  one  of  their 
trials  had  been  want  of  sufficient  money  to  bring 
them  comfortably  over  such  a  long  way,  by  such  a  tedi 
ous  and  expensive  route.  There  was  a  shyness  about 
them,  too,  which  marked,  however  they  disguised  it  ex 
ternally,  that  their  hearts  revolted  from  the  outlandish 
and  foreign  aspect  of  the  tall  planters,  dressed  in  deer 
skin  hunting-shirts,  with  fringed  epaulets  of  leather  on 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  7 

their  shoulders,  a  knit  sash  of  red,  green,  and  blue  about 
their  waists,  buck-skin  pantaloons  and  moccasins,  a  rifle 
on  their  shoulders,  five  or  six  dogs  attending  each  one 
of  them,  and  a  dozen  ragged  and  listless  negroes  loung 
ing  behind  them..  Real  dignity,  however,  is  an  internal 
thing,  and  belongs  only  lo  the  mind.  A  family  could 
not  have  been  reared,  as  they  had  been,  where  self- 
respect  had  been  inculcated  every  day,  and  every  hour, 
both  by  precept  and  example,  without  showing  the  in 
fluence  of  their  discipline,  be  their  dress  and  appearance 
in  other  respects,  as  they  might.  There  was  a  look  of 
decency,  uprightness,  and  calm  assertion  of  their  stand 
ing,  a  certain  indescribable,  but  easily  felt  manner  im 
pressed  upon  the-  whole  family,  .which  manifested  at  a 
glance,  that  it  was  the  family  of -a  gentleman,  it  at  once 
awed  and  repressed  rude  and  impertinent  curiosity,  and 
made  the  vulgar  rich,  for  therfe  were  three  or  four  such, 
who  had  come  to  be  spectators  of  the  arrival  of  this  fam 
ily,  shrink, from  the  manifestation  of  that  unfeeling  and 
insulting  superiority,  wRich  such  people  are  apt  to  evince 
in  the  presence  of  those,  who  are  poorer  than  them 
selves.  Mr.  Pindell,  the  owner  of  twenty-five  negroes, 
and  Mr.  Gorvin,  the  owner  of  fifteen,  were  among  the 
dozen  nearest  settlers  who  had  come  professedly  to  wel 
come  them  to  their  cabin  in  the  woods.  There  was 
much  rough  but  well  intended  complimenting,  and  prof 
fer  of  aid  and  courtesy,  and  desire  that  they  might  be 
better  acquainted  ;  in  short,  all  the  kindly  meant  cere 
monial,  customary  among  such  people  on  such  occa 
sions.  After  an  acquaintance  of  two  years,  it  would 
have  been  pleasant  to  Mr.  Mason  and  his  family.  At 
present  the  dim  shades  of  twilight  gathering  over  the 
boundless  woods,  the  savage  aspect  of  these  huntsmen 
and  their  negroes,  even  the  joyous  evening  yell  of  the 
hounds,  the  unwonted  and  strange  terms  of  welcome, 
the  foreign  look  of  every  thing  about  them,  all  this  was 
of  a  character  to  inspire  dismay  and  homesickness  in 
the  hearts  of  people,  recently  transferred  from  a  pleas- 


GEORGE  MASON 


ant  New-England  village.  Way-worn,  and  but  slender 
ly  furnished  with  the  means  of  simple  subsistence, 
whether  they  looked  around  them  upon  the  new  soci 
ety,  in  the  midst  of  which  their  lot  was  cast,  upon  the 
dark  and  sterile  woods,  whose  leaves  were  falling  about 
them,  or  into  the  roofless  and  unfloored  cabin,  where 
they  were  to  shelter  for  the  night ;  the  whole  scene  was 
desolate  and  chilliag.  God  is  a  shade,  a  shelter,  and  a 
.high  tower  of  defence  in  such  cases.  The  young  chil 
dren  had  wept  with  weariness,  had  thrown  themselves 
on  a  blanket,  and  were  asleep  under  the  open  sky. 
The  neighbours  saw  that  their  newly  arrived  friends 
were  weary,  and  wished  to  be  by  themselves.  They 
had  considerately  provided  plenty  of  such  provisions,  as 
the  settlement  afforded ;  spread  bear  skins  on  the  sward 
in  the  interior  of  the  cabin,  and  left  a  black  woman  to 
cook  supper  and  breakfast  for  them.  In  that  mud  sea 
son,  and  cloudless  weather,  there  was  nothing  formida 
ble  to  them,  in  the  idea  of  leaving  the  family  to  repose 
on  bear  skins  under  the  open  canopy.  One  after 
the  other,  with  the  significant  Western  salutation,  "  I 
wish  you  well,"  left  them  to  themselves.  The  younger 
children  were  too  soundly  asleep  to  be  awakened  to  sup 
per.  The  parents  and  George  and  Eliza  took  a  hasty 
supper,  provided  for  them  by  the  black  woman,  and 
soon  forgot  their  cares  and  slept  as  deeply  as  if  they 
had  been  reposing  on  down,  in  the  most  magnificent 
dwelling. 

Mr.  Mason,  on  report  only,  and  without  having  seen 
it,  had  purchased,  as  an  asylum  and  a  shelter  from  the 
approaching  winter,  this  unfinished  log-house,  in  the 
midst  of  a  clearing  of  three  acres,  cut  out  of  the  deep 
forest,  in  this  settlement,  eight  miles  from  the  river. 
The  nearest  habitation  was  distant  two  miles.  Beyond 
that,  there  was  a  considerable  settlement,  recently  es 
tablished  in  the  forests.  Some  of  the  planters,  as  we 
have  remarked,  were  comparatively  opulent,  and  had  a 
considerable  number  of  slaves.  The  neighbours,  of 


THE  YOUNG   BACKWOODSMAN. 

whom  we  have  spoken,  had  visited  them,  as  is  custom 
ary,  to  welcome  them  to  the  settlement,  and  to  proffer 
their  acquaintance  and  their  aid. 

A  bright  morning  sun,  slanting  its  beams  through  the 
forests,  at  this  season  delightfully  rich  with  all  the  mel 
low  colors  of  autumn,  a  plentiful  breakfast  provided  for 
the  family,  before  they  were  awake,  by  the  black  wo 
man,  and  to  which  she  awaked  them,  the  devouring 
appetite  of  the  children,  refreshed  by  their  sleep,  the 
air,  prospects,  and  cheerful  sounds  of  the  morning,  ren 
dered  the  scene  before  them  as  different  from  that  of 
the  evening,  as  can  be  imagined.  Every  member  of 
the  family  was  cBeerful,  and  the  sole  theme  was,  how 
they  should  render  the  habitation  comfortable,  and  lay 
in  a  sufficient  quantity  of  the  provisions,  which  the  set 
tlement  furnished,  for  the  approaching  winter.  We 
have  remarked,  that  Mr.  Mason  was  in  feeble  health. 
He  suffered,  also,  from  nervousness,  and  a  tempera 
ment,  probably  resulting  from  that  habit,  inclining  to  de 
jection  and  despondency.  But  his  was  a  wisely  reli 
gious  family,  which  had  been  taught  by  constant  train 
ing,  that  despondency,  indulged  and  allowed,  under 
any  circumstances,  is  a  sin,  implying  dishonoring  and 
distrustful  views  of  God,  and  particularly  so,  when  it 
hinders  the  desponding  from  exertions,  which  they 
might  otherwise  make,  to  better  their  condition. 

The  depression  of  Mr.  Mason  was  that  of  feebleness 
of  health  and  the  physical  nature,  and  not  that  of  the 
mind.  Immediately  after  breakfast,  and  the  departure 
of  the  black  woman,  the  father  was  seen  in  company 
with  George,  making  mortar  from  the  clay,  and  exert 
ing  himself  to  fill  up  the  intervals  between  the  logs,  in 
the  language  of  the  country,  "  daubing"  the  house,  and 
in  all  the  common  expedients  of  the  country,  to  render 
the  habitation  a  warm  and  secure  shelter  from  the  frosts 
and  rains  of  the  approaching  winter.  Though  his  neigh 
bours  were  rough,  some  of  them  were  kind  in  their 
way,  and  they  came  in  and  aided  him.  He  saw  in 


10  GEORGE  MASON, 

their  mode  of  managing  the  business,  that  there  is  a 
dexterity  in  every  business,  to  be  acquired  only  by 
practice,  and  that  they  knew  infinitely  better  than  he 
did  how  to  "  daub  and  chink "  a  log  cabin.  In  a 
couple  of  days,  which  fortunately  continued  fair,  the 
house  had  a  roof,  which  would  shed  the  rain,  though 
the  covering  was  of  cypress-splits,  secured  in  their  place 
by  logs,  laid  at  right  angles  over  them,  and  a  chimney, 
which  did  not  smoke,  although  it  was  made  of  clefts, 
plastered  with  clay-mortar,  in  which,  as  the  material 
was  abundant,  there  was  no  lack  of  thickness  of  coating. 
The  intervals  between  the  logs  were  tightiy  closed  with 
chinking,  well  covered  with  the  same  material.  A 
partition  of  small  and  straight  timbers,  with  an  opening 
cut  through  one  end  for  a  door,  divided  the  area  of  the 
cabin  into  two  apartments,  one  of  which  contained  one, 
and  the  other  two  husk  mattrasses.  The  neighbours 
assisted  him  to  raise  another  smaller  cabin,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  country,  a  "  logpen,"  covered  and  daubed 
in  the  same  manner,  but  without  a  chimney,  and  here 
was  another  mattrass,  in  which  George  and  Henry 
slept.  These  mattrasses,  thanks  to  the  cheapness  of 
bleached  cottons  in  our  country,  though  coarsely  cov 
ered,  had  an  appearance  of  coolness  and  neatness,  which 
spread  a  charm  round  the  precincts  of  the  rustic,  but 
neat  cabin.  A  draft  was  necessarily  made  upon  the 
small  sum  of  money,  that  remained  to  the  family,  and 
which  was  reserved  for  the  most  pressing  emergencies, 
to  purchase  a  supply  of  winter  provisions.  These  con 
sisted  of  the  substantial  materials  of  a  west  country 
man's  diet,  corn,  bacon,  and  sweet  potatoes.  Such  are 
the  appointments  with  which  a  hundred  thousand  fami 
lies  have  commenced  in  the  Western  country,  and  with 
which  they  have,  probably,  been  more  contented  and 
happy  than  their  posterity  will  be  when  dwelling  in 
spacious  mansions. 

When  the  first  white  frosts  of  November  rendered  an 
evening  fire  necessary ;  when  a  bright  one  was  kindled 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  1  1 

on  their  broad  clay  hearth  ;  when  their  "  puncheon  " 
shutters,  for  glass  they  had  none,  had  excluded  the  un 
certain  light  and  the  chill  air  of  evening  ;  when  the  broad 
table,  made  with   an    adz   from  white  poplar  clefts,  was 
spread  before   this  fire ;  when    the   repast  of  smoking 
corn  loaf,  sweet  potatoes,  and  fried  bacon  were  arranged 
on  it ;  when  the  fragrant  tea  was  added,  in  remembrance 
of  New-England,  for  they  still  retained  a  few  pounds, 
brought   all  the  way  from   that  country  ;  and  when  the 
whole  was  seasoned   by  cheerful  conversation,  and  that 
appetite,  which  is  felt  in  such  cabins,  and  by  industrious 
backwoodsmen  in   the  highest  perfection,  the  guests  at 
this  humble  feast  had   no  need  to   envy  those  of  any 
other.     A  brilliant  blaze,  kindled   with   dry  wood,  en 
lightened  the  whole  interior  structure  of  this  fresh-look 
ing,  rough-cast,  timbered  apartment.     The  faithful  dog, 
that  had  followed  them  all  the  way  from  their  late  home, 
and  now  doubly  dear  to  them,  as  associated  with  their 
fond  remembrances  of  that  country,  sat  beside  the  table, 
looking  earnestly  upon  its  contents,  apparently  as  hungry, 
and   as  happy,   as  the   children,  wagging  his  tail,  and 
occasionally  interpolating  a  yelp  of  joy,  as  an  interjec 
tion  in  the  pauses  of  the   gay  conversation.     The  pro 
longed    and    distant  howl  of  the  wolves,   the  ludicrous 
and  almost  terrific  noises  of  a  hundred  owls,  the  scream 
of  other  nocturnal  animals,   the  measured  creaking  of 
the  crickets   and   catadeds,   and   the  gathering  roar   of 
autumnal  winds  along  the  forest,  only  sweetened  a  sense 
of  present  protection  to  the  children,  and  rendered   the 
brightness  and  shelter  of  the  scene  within  more  delight 
ful,  by  contrast  with   the  boundless   and   savage   forest 
without.     Such  are  the  scenes,  where  narratives  of  the 
incidents  of  common  life   have  their  highest  zest  and 
charm.     Such  are   the   scenes,  where   the   confidence 
and  affection  of  children  towards  their  parents  root  deep 
and  strong  in  the   heart,   and  have  no  touch  of  merce 
nary  and  selfish  expectation  mixed  with  them.     I  have 
never  passed,  and  I  never  expect  to  pass,  happier  hours, 


12  GEORGE  MASON, 

than  I  have  spent,  while  an  inmate  of  such  a  cabin.  It 
has  seemed  to  me,  that  a  woodsman's  cabin  that  has 
just  risen  in  the  forests,  rendered  happy  by  innocence, 
compeience,  contentment,  and  prayer,  concentres  af 
fection,  and  produces  some  singular  and  undescribed 
associations  of  contrast,  that  render  it  the  chosen  and 
hallowed  abode  of  that  unassuming  happiness,  which  is 
the  most  durable  and  satisfying,  that  we  can  feel  here 
below.  I  have  delightful  remembrances  of  my  long 
sojourn  in  such  places ;  and  as  they  return  to  my 
thoughts,  I  earnestly  invoke  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
the  dwellers  in  cabins. 

The  children,  each  one  of  whom  inherited  a  sprink 
ling  of  romance  from  th-eir  parents,  were  charmed  with 
these  first  essays  of  the  life  of  a  backwoodsman. 
Poor  things !  They  had  as  yet  seen  but  the  romance 
and  the  illusion  of  the  picture.  Long  may  they  remain 
under  this  pleasant  spell,  which  charms  the  woods  and 
this  new  condition  for  them.  A  circumstance  contributed 
to  heighten  the  charm.  The  sixth  day  after  their  ar 
rival,  a  deer  strayed  so  near  the  cabin,  that  George  shot 
it  from  the  door.  The  same  day  the  father  and  son,  in 
exploring  the  grounds  directly  about  them,  in  relation 
to  commencing  a  clearing,  started  a  bear  from  the  cane 
brake.  He  retreated  slowly,  and  growling  from  their 
path,  and  made  his  retreat  upon  a  prodigious  sycamore. 
A  passing  neighbour  came  to  the  place.  Two  or  three 
dogs  surrounded  the  tree,  and  made  the  woods  ring 
with  cries,  which  indicated,  to  a  knowing  huntsman,  that 
fear  was  mingled  with  their  joy.  A  few  rifle-shots 
brought  the  savage  to  the  ground.  There  was  some 
thing  less  wounding  to  their  feelings  in  the  slaughter  of 
such  a  ferocious  animal,  than  in  that  of  an  inoffensive  deer. 
Apart  from  the  noble  and  spirit-stirring  sport  of  bringing 
down  a  large  and  fat  bear,  the  meat,  which  is  excel 
lent,  and  easily  preserved,  was  a  matter  of  no  small  con 
sideration  to  a  family  like  this.  Even  the  skin  is  an 
important  item  in  the  arrangement  of  a  backwoods 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  13 

cabin.  I  can  scarcely  imagine  more  ample  materials 
for  pleasant  evening  conversation  and  amusement,  than 
were  furnished  by  the  hunting  of  the  day.  Tender 
pieces  of  venison  and  bear's-meat  smoked  on  the  table. 
The  fortunes  of  that  day  seemed  to  promise,  that  there 
would  be  no  danger  of  want  of  meat,  while  they  pos 
sessed  a  rifle,  powder,  and  lead.  The  black  eyes  of 
the  charming  Eliza  glistened  with  intense  interest,  as 
she  contemplated  the  terrible  claws  and  teeth  of  the 
savage  animal,  with  an  involuntary  shudder,  observ 
ing,  that  much  as  she  longed  to  gather  the  wild  flow 
ers,  she  should  always  tremble  to  go  in  woods,  where 
such  terrible  beasts  were  common.  George  exulted  in 
the  spirit  of  a  little  Nimrod,  as  he  related  the  circum 
stances  of  bringing  down  the  bear  to  his  younger 
brothers,  who  had  not  been  permitted  to  be  in  at  the 
death.  The  misfortune  of  this  pleasant  circle  was,  that 
there  were  generally  two  or  three  speakers  chattering 
at  a  time.  None,  but  a  canine  Lavater,  would  have 
comprehended  all  the  visible  satisfaction  of  the  dog, 
who  was  evidently  listening  with  all  his  ears,  and  proba 
bly  regretting  the  want  of  speech,  that  he  could  not 
disclose  his  thoughts  among  the  rest.  Even  the  head 
of  this  family  turned  a  countenance,  brightening  from 
its  common  dejection,  on  Mrs.  Mason,  who,  it  would  ap 
pear,  had  been  averse  to  this  immigration.  "  Eliza," 
said  he,  with  an  air  of  quiet  triumph  in  his  eye,  "  are 
you  sorry  now,  that  we  have  brought  our  dear  ones 
here?" 

How  often  has  my  heart  been  glad  in  view  of  scenes 
like  these  !  How  often  have  I  thanked  God,  that  the 
world  was  not  made  for  a  favored  few  !  How  often 
have  I  felt  a  religious  gladness,  in  thinking,  that  calm, 
simple,  pure,  and  natural  enjoyments  were  thus  accessi 
ble  to  the  tenants  of  such  habitations  !  An  unenvious 
spirit  of  contentment,  industry,  and  prayer  rests  upon 
you,  ye  dwellers  in  this  lowly  habitation.  Only  know 
your  happiness,  and  you  need  not  envy  the  tenants  of 
2 


1  4  GEORGE  MASON, 

palaces.  Mrs.  Mason  herself,  as  she  pressed  the  hand 
of  her  husband,  admitted,  that  the  first  samples  of  their 
new  ways  of  life  were  more  pleasant,  than  she  had  an 
ticipated.  To  say  the  truth,  though  she  never  remon 
strated  against  the  plans  of  her  husband,  she  had  enter 
tained  in  her  heart  the  most  gloomy  forebodings,  in 
reference  to  a  new  existence  in  such  a  distant  and 
unknown  country. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  15 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Let  not  ambition  mock  their  useful  toil, 
Their  homely  joys  and  destiny  obscure." 

IT  would  too  long  detach  me  from  the  thread  of  my 
narrative,  if  I  were  to  go  minutely  into  the  relation  of 
the  causes  which  brought  such  a  family,  as  that  of  Mr. 
Mason's,  from  the  condition  of  a  New-England  minis 
ter's  place  and  duties,  to  the  forests  of  the  lower  Missis 
sippi,  and  a  society,  for  which  they  were  evidently  so  little 
assorted.  Few  of  my  readers  would  comprehend  the 
peculiar  trials  of  a  minister  in  such  a  place,  or  would 
be  able  to  understand  the  complication  of  minute  diffi 
culties  and  vexations,  which,  during  a  ministry  of  sixteen 
years,  in  a  country  village,  had  broken  dovyn  his  health 
and  spirits,  and  finally  induced  him  to  ask  a  dismission 
from  his  people,  and  to  move  to  this  distant  and  unknown 
country.  His  parish  comprehended  every  shade  of 
opinion  in  religion  and  politics.  Embittered  parties 
and  eternal  disputations  were  the  consequence.  In 
attempting  to  keep  clear  of  all,  the  pastor  became  em 
broiled  with  all.  Both  himself'  and  his  wife  had  been 
reared  delicately.  The  salary  was  small,  and  the  family 
increasing.  He  became  poor,  and  obnoxious  both  to 
the  religious  and  political  parties ;  and  after  sixteen 
years  of  the  prime  of  his  life  spent  among  them,  ad 
mitting,  the  while,  that  he  was  exemplary,  of  good  feel 
ings,  learned  and  eloquent,  they  refused  him,  in  town- 
meeting,  a  request  to  add  something  to  his  salary.  In 
disgust  he  asked  a  dismission,  and  it  was  granted. 

To  account  for  his  thoughts  taking  this  direction,  as 
a  place  where  to  fix  himself  and  family,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  explain  something  of  the  peculiar  texture 
of  his  mind  and  his  thoughts.  In  the  progress  of  his 
vexations  in  his  parish,  he  had  become,  perhaps  I  ought 


16  GEORGE  MASON, 

to  say,  unreasonably  disgusted  with  the  condition  of  a 
minister  in  that  country.  His  health  and  spirits  had 
failed,  and  while  his  lady  earnestly  wished  him  to  make 
the  experiment  of  trying  to  settle  again,  he  had  be 
come  determined  never  to  be  resettled  in  the  ministry. 
While  she  would  have  preferred  his  trying  any  other 
expedient  for  a  livelihood  than  agriculture,  a  pursuit 
for  which  he  was  so  liitle  fitted,  he  had  been  accustom 
ed  for  years  to  allow  his  thoughts  to  expatiate  in  fabri 
cating  the  romance  of  pastoral  enjoyments  and  pursuits. 
By  accident  the  romances  of  Inilay  and  Chateaubriand, 
and  other  writers  equally  historical,  presenting  such 
illusive  pictures  of  the  southern  and  western  country, 
had  fallen  into  his  hands.  During  the  long  winter 
evenings, 

"  When  fast  came  down  the  snow, 
And  keenly  o'er  the  wide  heath  the  bitter  blast  did  blow,'* 

this  romance  of  freedom  from  the  vexations  of  a  minister's 
life,  and  the  miseries  of  political  and  religious  alterca 
tion  in  a  populous  village,  and  escape  from  the  inclement 
climate,  to  a  country  where  he  might  find  health,  free 
dom,  solitude,  rich  land,  and  independence,  formed  in 
his  imagination.  Once  formed  there,  all  his  reading 
and  reasonings,  all  the  opposing  arguments,  all  the  re 
monstrances  of  his  friends,  and  each  renewed  vexation, 
embellished  his  romance,  and  confirmed  his  purpose. 
His  wife,  at  first,  argued  gently  against  the  plan  ;  but 
she  loved  her  husband,  and  his  often  repeated,  and  elo 
quently  painted  views  of  his  romance,  finally  presented 
it  to  her  mind  as  a  reality. 

I  need  not  describe  the  departure  of  this  family  from 
their  New-England  home.  As  he  was  leaving  them, 
the  villagers,  some  of  them  at  least,  seemed  to  relent, 
and  to  understand  and  feel  their  loss.  Many  tears  were 
shed  upon  all  sides.  Mr.  Mason  himself  found  it  was 
a  different  thing  from  his  imaginings,  to  break  away 
from  such  a  place,  where  he  had  so  long  identified  his 
feelings  with  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  the  people  ;  where 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  1  7 

he  had  prayed  with  so  many  sick,  and  followed  so  many 
dead  to  their  long  home.  His  fair  and  loved  wife,  pale, 
shrinking,  and  in  tears,  kissed  her  mother.  The'  chil 
dren  kissed  their  schoolmates.  Old  people  said,  "  Good 
bye,  Mr.  Mason  ;  pray  for  us ;  we  shall  never  see  you 
again."  The  children,  their  eyes  red  arid  swollen  with 
weeping,  were  packed  along  with  Mrs.  Mason,  with  the 
dilapidated  but  bulky  baggage,  into  a  two-horse  wagon. 
Young  George  sat  forward,  as  driver.  Amidst  suppres 
sed  weeping,  and  almost  inaudible  farewells,  with  his 
hat  drawn  over  his  eyes,  George  started  his  team.  The 
family  dog  saw  that  matters  went  wrong,  and  whined 
piteously,  as  he  followed  the  lingering  steps  of  his 
master,  who  walked  behind  the  wagon,  to  indulge  in 
the  sad  luxury  of  the  last  look  at  his  church-spire  glit 
tering  in  the  sun-beams  of  a  bright  morning  in  autumn. 

I  trust  there  are  few  readers  who  cannot  fill  out  the  pic 
ture  of  the  feelings,  trials,  and  accidents  of  such  a  family, 
in  their  journey  to  the  western  hills.  They  can  imagine, 
how  often  the  horses  gave  out,  the  harness  broke,  and  the 
carriage  escaped  upsetting.  They  can  imagine,  how  often 
the  children  cried  with  fatigue  and  sleepiness  at  night ; 
and  how  fresh,  alert,  and  gay  they  were,  when  setting  out, 
after  a  full  breakfast,  on  a  bright  sunny  morning  ;  how 
often  they  were  brought  in  contact  with  rough  and  un 
feeling  people  5  how  often,  in  their  tavern  bills,  and  bills 
for  repairs,  they  dealt  with  harpies,  eager  to  wrest  from 
them  an  unjust  claim  upon  their  scanty  pittance.  But 
if  they  met  with  many  painful  occurrences  on  this  long 
route,  there  were  many  pleasant  ones  too.  If  the  gul 
lied  road,  or  the  rain-washed  precipices  rendered  the 
way  almost  impassable  to  their  wagon,  in  other  places 
they  found  many  miles  in  succession  of  pleasant  travel 
ling.  On  the  whole,  there  were  many  more  fair  days 
than  stormy  ones.  George  proved  himself,  for  a  boy 
of  his  years,  a  firm  and  an  admirable  driver.  While 
he  was  whistling  on  the  front  of  the  wagon,  and  cheer 
ing  his  horses,  and  the  children  were  asleep  among  the 
2* 


18  GEORGE  MASON, 

baggage,  the  husband  and  wife  walked  many  a  pleasant 
mile,  seating  themselves  occasionally  for  rest  on  the 
breezy  side  of  a  hill  or  a  mountain,  and  tracing  back  as 
on  a  map,  the  dusty  road,  the  river,  the  villages,  spires, 
mansions  and  groves,  by  which  they  had  passed.  Nor 
will  the  feeling  -and  experienced  traveller  in  this  emi 
grating  march,  fail  to  add  to  the  picture  the  dog,  repos 
ing  at  their  feet,  whenever  they  rested.  There  is  a 
charm  in  the  evershifting  mountain  and  valley  scenery, 
on  such  a  long  route,  that  Mr.  Mason  felt  in  all  its  de 
light. 

In  due  time,  and  with  the  common  experience  of  the 
mixture  of  bitter  and  pleasant  things,  they  had  labored 
over  the  last  of  the  Alleghany  hills  ;  had  descended  to 
the  Ohio;  had  sold,  if  sale  it  might  be  called,  their  wag 
on  and  team  ;  had  purchased  a  flat  boat,  and  were 
floating  down  the  beautiful  Ohio,  which  happened  this 
Autumn  to  be  in  an  uncommonly  fine  stage  for  boating. 
They  had  been  wafted  down  that  beautiful  river,  had 
admired  the  forests,  the  vallies  and  bluffs,  and  the  incipi 
ent  towns  and  villages,  as  they  alternated  on  its  long 
course  ;  had  encountered  the  sweeping  and  turbid 
current  of  the  Mississippi;  had  debarked  at  the  Iron 
Banks,  and  had  hired  a  wagon  to  carry  them  out  to 
the  settlement,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  Mr.  Mason  had 
purchased  the  cabin  and  clearing,  which  he  now  inhab 
ited. 

Mr.  Pindall  and  Mr.  Garvin.  from  their  wealth,  the 
number  of  their  slaves,  and  from  their  possessing,  along 
with  a  drove  of  horses,  four-wheeled  carriages,  which 
were  called  coaches,  were  by  estimation  the  distinguish 
ed  inhabitants  of  the  settlement.  Illiterate  and  rude  as 
they  were,  they  perceived,  and  felt  the  character  of  their 
new  neighbours.  An  unpleasant  sense  of  mental  infe 
riority  at  first  awed  them  to  a  respectful  kindness  of 
manner  towards  them  ;  and  they  evinced  no  little 
pride  in  showing  the  new  family,  with  their  compara 
tively  polished  manners,  and  their  bright  and  beautiful 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  ID 

faces,  as  their  guests.  They  gave  them  dinners,  in 
which  there  was  no  want  of  substantial  good  cheer  ; 
nor  any  deficiency  of  custards,  delicious  sweet  potatoe 
pies,  and  various  wild  fruits.  Aware,  that  whiskey 
would  not  be  the  beverage  of  Mr.  Mason's  choice,  even 
generous  foreign  wines  were  spread  on  the  board.  All 
this  was  painful  to  the  family  ;  for  they  were  conscious 
that  it  was  not  in  their  power  to  return  the  invitations 
in  kind,  and  that  they  could  not  expect  long  to  preserve 
the  respect  of  such  people,  in  this  visible  manifestation 
of  inferiority,  in  a  point,  which  they  would  deem  of  so 
much  importance.  It  is,  in  fact,  an  unfortunate  trait  in 
the  character  of  people  of  that  class,  that  they  are  un 
duly  delighted  with  every  thing  that  is  new  ;  and  caress 
recent  emigrants  for  a  while.  As  soon  as  they  be 
come  thoroughly  acquainted  with  them,  they  discover 
something,  which  awakens  envy,  or  comparison,  and 
begin  to  find  fault  with  them  ;  circulate  unfavorable 
reports  of  them,  and  especially,  if  they  are  poor,  com 
bine  to  keep  them  down,  and  prevent  their  emerging 
from  their  humiliation  and  poverty. 

This  view  of  the  character  of  the  settlers  about  them 
soon  began  to  disclose  itself,  and  convince  them  that 
there  were  babbling  and  disagreeable  people  else  where, 
than  in  New  England.  But  their  general  circum 
stances  were  so  pleasant,  and  the  romance  of  their  con 
dition  still  so  fresh,  during  the  winter  that  succeeded 
their  arrival,  that  Mr.  Mason  pronounced  himself  quite 
as  well  satisfied  with  his  new  condition,  as  he  had  an 
ticipated.  Young  George  became  at  once  a  hunter  of 
considerable  expertness.  It  is  true,  neither  he  nor  his 
father,  in  the  phrase  of  the  country,  were  "quite  up" 
to  the  mystery  of  hunting  bears  and  deer.  But,  du 
ring  this  winter,  whatever  the  neighbours  said  of  them 
in  private,  they  were  externally  kind,  and  sent  them,  in 
presents,  more  venison  and  bear's-meat,  than  they  could 
consume.  Whenever  they  chose,  by  rambling  a  few 
hours,  they  could  at  any  time  bring  home,  for  variety  in 


20  GEORGE  MASON, 

their  fare,  wild  ducks,  squirrels,  opossums,  and  rabbits. 
The  tea,  coffee,  and  sugar,  which  they  had  brought  with 
them,  it  is  true,  were  soon  exhausted,  and  it  did  not  suit 
their  scanty  resources  to  replenish  these  articles.  The 
want  at  first,  from  the  power  of  habit,  was  felt  as  a  try 
ing  and  painful  privation.  As  a  substitute,  the  milk  of 
a  couple  of  cows,  which  they  had  purchased,  and  which 
fed  in  the  rich  range  near  the  house,  furnished  a  bever 
age  more  healthful  and  nutritive,  if  not  so  pleasant,  as 
that  which  they  were  compelled  to  renounce. 

We  have  seen,  that  from  ill  health  and  discourage 
ment  Mr.  Mason,  when  he  left  New  England,  had  de 
termined  finally  to  renounce  the  public  duties  of  his 
profession.  While  he  was  still  fresh  in  the  acquaintance 
and  respect  of  the  people  in  his  new  residence,  in  their 
zeal  to  hear  a  new  preacher,  they  wearied  him  with 
solicitations  to  preach,  until  finally  he  consented.  A 
"  preaching,"  as  it  is  called,  that  creates  any  excitement, 
is  there  not  unlike  an  ordination  in  New  England. 
There  is  a  simultaneous  rush  from  all  quarters,  within 
ten  miles,  to  the  spectacle.  Mrs.  Mason,  who  per 
ceived  from  the  excitement,  what  a  show  it  was  like  to 
prove,  was  compelled,  poor  woman,  to  task  her  utmost 
powers,  to  fit  up  the  sabbath  dresses  for  the  dear  chil 
dren,  so  as  to  enable  them  to  make  any  tolerable  ap 
pearance,  beside  those  of  her  rich  neighbours.  Eliza 
would  have  been  the  pride  of  any  mother.  It  went  to 
the  heart  of  this  mother  to  find,  that,  do  all  she  could, 
in  the  way  of  turning,  and  mending,  and  contriving,  the 
sweet  child  of  her  pride  and  her  heart  would  show  a 
beautiful  face  and  form  under  the  disadvantage  of  a  mean 
and  faded  dress.  Mr.  Mason  had  comprehended  the 
tone  of  public  feeling,  and  wished  not  to  distinguish 
himself  by  a  dress  for  this  occasion  different  from  the 
common  one.  In  this  single  respect  Mrs.  Mason  showed, 
that  she  felt  on  this  subject,  as  a  woman.  Forth  came 
the  gorgeous  and  flowing  silk  cassock  and  surplice,  and 
about  his  neck  were  the  large  and  well  starched  bands. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  21 

The  important  Sabbath  dawned  at  length,  and  the  peo 
ple  were  seen,  some  on  horseback,  some  on  foot,  some 
in  dearborns,  and  some  in  carriages,  emerging  from  the 
deep  woods,  in  every  direction,  where  an  alley  had 
been  opened  through  them.  Mr.  Mason  and  every 
member  of  his  family  made  their  way  on  foot  to  the 
place  of  worship,  distant  two  miles  and  a  half.  It  was 
a  large  log  building,  on  the  verge  of  a  gentle  bluff, 
whence  issued  two  or  three  springs,  which  were  en 
closed  in  unheaded  casks,  and  amply  provided  with 
gourd  shells  for  drinking  vessels.  The  building  within 
was  rough  and  capacious,  and  had  an  aspect,  which  I 
should  describe  to  no  purpose  to  one,  who  has  not  seen 
such  a  church.  I  shall  only  mention  one  peculiarity  of 
the  structure.  It  was  so  contrived  that  in  the  cold 
weather  of  winter,  logs,  sixteen  feet  in  length,  could  be 
drawn,  or,  as  it  is  technically  phrased,  -snaked  into 
diurch  and  placed  parallel  to  the  mud-daubed  wall,  and 
a  fire  kindled  along  the  whole  length. 

The  church  was  full  to  overflowing,  and  the  display 
of  scarlet  and  coquelico  dresses  and  artificial  wreaths 
and  roses,  contrasted  their  barbaric  splendor  strangely 
with  the  huge  logs  in  their  native  forms  and  dimensions, 
that  composed  the  walls  ;  and,  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Ma 
son,  with  the  cotton  jackets  of  her  boys,  patched  until 
the  original  cloth  could  hardly  be  distinguished.  But 
had  she  been  able  to  fathom  the  hearts  of  the  collected 
multitude,  she  would  have  discovered,  that  display  of 
dress  is  no  passport  to  the  hearts,  if  it  is  to  the  admira 
tion  of  beholders.  She  would  have  discovered,  that  her 
idolized  little  girl,  in  her  plain  and  faded  calico  robe, 
shrinking  with  modesty,  and  blushing  like  the  morn, 
was  a  hundred  times  more  an  object  of  interest,  than 
she  would  have  been  in  all  the  glaring  finery  of  the 
rest.  The  uncommon  beauty  of  the  children,  so  habit 
ed,  excited  no  envy,  and  made  itself  more  conspicu 
ous  by  contrast.  The  brawny  bosoms  of  Hercules  Pin- 
dall  and  Jethro  Garvin,  Sabbath  though  it  was,  were 


22  GEORGE  MASON, 

transfixed  with  the  first  look  of  this  sweet  girl  of  twelve 
years,  now  just  expanding  like  an  opening  rose-bud, 
into  the  mature  splendor  of  beauty.  Well  had  it  been 
for  Mr.  Mason,  too,  if  his  ill  fated  cassock,  surplice, 
and  bands  had  never  been  seen  in  that  church.  The 
naughty  woman  of  Babylon,  in  all  her  meretricious 
trappings,  could  not  have  excited  a  more  general  and 
unpleasant  revulsion  of  feeling.  The  sermon,  in  fact, 
was  settled  before  hand.  The  audience,  it  is  true,  said 
nothing  on  the  spot ;  but  they  looked  with  all  their 
eyes,  and  like  the  parrot,  "  thought  the  more."  Mr. 
Mason  was,  what  we  consider,  a  charming  preacher. 
He  had  voice,  gesture,  manner,  tone,  pathos,  unction, 
and  deep  thought.  His  heart  was  full  in  his  discourses, 
and  a  strain  of  solemn  and  earnest  tenderness  ran 
through  them,  that  deeply  affects  my  heart  in  such  an 
exercise.  The  sermon,  which  he  now  delivered,  was 
one  of  his  best.  But  he  fought  with  the  air,  and  af 
forded  a  proof,  that  what  is  good  and  delightful  in  one 
place,  may  be  an  abomination  in  another.  The  audience 
expected,  that  before  the  close  of  his  discourse,  he 
would  have  made  the  woods  echo.  They  expected 
some  of  those  strong,  coarse,  and  vehement  appeals  to 
their  feelings,  interlarded  with  figures  and  colloquial 
phrases  and  allusions,  that  were  familiar  to  them,  and 
their  peculiar  ways  of  life.  Mr.  Mason  was  himself 
affected  with  his  own  earnestness,  and  his  eye  moisten 
ed,  but  none  of  his  audience  caught  the  infectious  feel 
ing.  They  heard  him  patiently  to  the  end,  and  dis 
persed,  with  their  thoughts  and  words  on  a  kind  of 
grumbling  key.  I  am  not  sure  that  it  would  subserve 
the  cause  of  criticism,  if  I  were  able  to  relate  all  the 
judgments  that  were  passed  upon  the  services,  as  the 
people  made  their  way  home.  Some  said,  that  every 
thing  in  the  sermon  was  mixed  up,  like  mush  and  milk. 
Others  said,  that  if  that  was  college-learning  preaching, 
give  them,  for  their  money,  old  Mr.  Dawson,  emphati 
cally  denominated,  "  Thunderlungs."  Some  said,  there 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  *o 

were  too  many  long  words,  or,  as  they  called  them, 
"  Booktionary  "  words  in  it.  Others  said,  that  it  was 
not  a  searching  discourse,  and  had  no  heart  religion  in  it. 
Others,  and  they  were  the  most  numerous  class  of  critics, 
said,  it  was  a  "  mighty  proud "  sermon ;  and  one 
and  all  agreed,  that  the  cassock,  and  gown,  &ic. 
were  right  Roman  concerns,  and  most  of  them  conclud 
ed,  that  he  was  a  Roman  Catholic.  In  short,  every  one 
found  fault  with  it  in  some  way.  An  itinerant  preacher 
had  been  of  the  audience,  too,  and  had  most  faithfully 
espied  out,  and  reported  the  nakedness  of  the  land. 

Mr.  Mason  was  but  a  man,  and  as  such,  had  expect 
ed,  no  doubt,  a  very  different  result  from  this  labored 
effort.  The  real  judgment  of  the  audience  made  its 
way  slowly,  but  effectually,  to  him.  He  saw  it  in  the 
manifest  coolness  of  the  people,  whom  he  met  in  the 
ensuing  week.  A  shrewd  free  mulatto  woman,  who 
knew  every  body,  and  heard  all  that  was  going,  called 
upon  Mrs.  Mason,  affecting  some  slight  errand,  but 
really  to  undo  the  budget,  and  let  her  know  the  whole 
amount  of  the  comments  upon  her  husband's  preaching. 
The  mind  of  Mr.  Mason  was  fixed  at  once,  in  regard 
to  his  duty.  He  had  been  wearied  into  the  effort  by 
solicitation.  He  had  done  his  best ;  and  he  determin 
ed  never  to  expose  himself  and  his  cause  to  the  same 
humiliation  again.  A  few  books  and  a  favorite  work, 
which  he  was  preparing  for  the  press,  afforded  sufficient 
occupation  for  all  his  leisure  hours  within,  when  the 
weather,  or  other  circumstances,  forbade  his  working 
abroad. 

In  his  own  family,  as  a  substitute  for  public  worship 
on  the  Sabbath,  he  adopted  a  private  course  of  wor 
ship,  blending  interest  and  amusement  with  religious  in 
struction  ;  associating  the  highest  exercises  of  the  un 
derstanding  and  the  best  affections  of  the  heart,  with 
the  tranquillizing  and  elevating  pleasures  of  religion. 
Prayers,  instructions,  select  readings  from  the  scrip 
tures,  tales  calculated  to  excite  moral  reflection,  and  to 


24  GEORGE  MASON, 

foster  tender  and  benevolent  feelings,  were  read  first  by 
the  father,  then  the  mother,  and  the  children  in  suc 
cession.  Their  understandings  were  exercised  by  ques 
tions.  The  hearts  were  improved  by  representations 
of  the  baseness  and  self-torment  of  pride,  envy,  and  the 
bad  passions  in  general.  One  grand  aim,  in  this  wor 
ship,  was  to  represent  the  Almighty  in  that  amiable 
character,  in  which  He  shows  himself  in  his  word,  and 
in  his  works,  and  sedulously  to  shield  their  minds  from 
any  associations  with  his  being  and  providence,  but 
those  of  love,  mercy,  justice,  goodness,  and  truth.  It 
closed  with  a  kind  of  court  of  inquest,  in  which  the  pa 
rents  were  judges,  and  the  children  witnesses.  The 
general  tenor  of  the  children's  deportment,  words,  and 
actions,  during  the  past  week,  underwent  a  solemn  re 
view.  The  facts  were  proved.  The  character  and 
tendency  of  the  actions  pointed  out ;  the  source  whence 
they  had  arisen,  explained  ;  and  if  matter  of  reprehen 
sion  existed,  what  ought  to  have  been  said  or  done,  in 
the  case,  declared  ;  and,  finally,  praise  and  blame 
were  distributed,  according  to  the  merits  of  the  actions. 
None  but  those  who  have  tested  this  discipline  know  its 
admirable  effects. 

When  these  services  were  concluded,  instead  of 
holding  the  children  in  durance,  as  a  penal  expiation  to 
the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath,  and  weaving  in  their  young 
minds  associations  with  it  of  austerity  and  gloom,  as 
soon  as  the  ardors  of  the  sun  were  quenched  by  his  de 
scent  behind  the  forests,  they  walked  together  into  the 
woods.  Every  object  in  these  walks  was  at  once  a 
source  of  amusement  and  instruction,  and  a  theme, 
whence  Mr.  Mason  did  not  fail  to  deduce  new  proofs 
of  the  wisdom,  mercy,  and  power  of  Him,  who  has 
formed  every  thing  by  weight  and  by  measure.  The 
moss,  or  the  evergreen  at  the  foot  of  the  sycamore,  the 
parroquets  settling  on  their  branches  to  feed,  the  par 
tridge  flitting  from  their  path,  the  eagle  screaming  in 
the  blue  far  above  the  summits  of  the  trees,  the  car- 

4 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  25 

rion  vultures,  sailing  round,  and  at  times  to  the  eye 
seeming  to  lie  still  it?  the  air,  as  they  scented  intensely, 
in  the  heights  of  the  firmament,  for  their  appropriate 
food  ;  the  squirrels  skipping,  and  displaying  themselves 
in  gambols,  or  evincing  the  impotent  sauciness  of  their 
pride  ;  the  rahbit,  starting  from  the  cane-brake  ;  the  va 
riety  of  trees  and  shrubs  in  the  wide  forest ;  the  prodi 
gious  grape-vines,  that  climbed  to  their  highest  tops  ;  the 
violets,  even  now  at  the  commencement  of  winter, 
starting  into  bloom  ;  the  diversified  seed  capsules  of 
flowers,  that  had  already  come  to  maturity  ;  the  various 
starry  forms  of  the  gossamer  down  of  seeds,  sailing 
slowly  in  the  breeze  ;  in  fine,  every  object,  with  which 
they  met,  was  sufficient  to  arrest  the  attention  and  in 
terest  of  the  family,  and  furnish  a  theme  for  a  lecture 
on  natural  history,  or  a  warm  and  home-felt  sermon  on 
the  goodness  and  wisdom  of  the  Almighty.  The  dis 
sipated  people  of  fashionable  life  do  not  await  the  re 
turn  of  their  nightly  gaieties  with  more  earnest  expecta 
tion  than  did  this  humble  and  lonely  family  their  Sab 
bath  evening's  walk  in  the  woods.  It  is  thus  that  minds 
rightly  constituted  and  trained,  find  everywhere  amuse 
ment  and  instruction. 

Though  they  had  delightful  Sabbath  walks  in  the 
woods;  though  it  was  a  source  of  constant  amusement 
to  the  parents  to  answer  the  thousand  questions  of  their 
children,  raised  by  the  novelty  of  the  objects  in  their 
walks  ;  though  the  illusive  veil,  which  imagination 
spreads  over  an  unexplored  region,  still  rested  upon  the 
country,  we  must  not  infer  that  they  were  all  the  time 
happy,  and  had  not  an  abundant  mixture  of  bitter  with 
their  pleasant  things,  it  belongs  to  earth  to  have  this 
mixture,  and  they  were  not  exempt  from  the  portion  of 
man  everywhere  under  the  sun.  On  their  return  from 
this  evening  walk,  there  was  no  tea,  no  coffee,  to  ex 
hilarate  their  evening  conversations,  and  to  satisfy  the 
cravings  of  long  habit.  The  family  often  visited  their 
neighbours  by  invitation.  The  rustic  abundance  and 
3 


26  GEORGE  MASON, 

the  varied  comforts,  which  were  seen  there,  the  re 
sult  of  a  rich  soil,  and  the  labor  of  slaves,  contrasted  but 
unfavorably  with  their  own  stinted  resources.  Mrs. 
Mason  was  herself  still  young  and  pretty,  and  her  fading 
dress  showed  to  greater  disadvantage,  beside  the  gaudy 
expensiveness  of  the  appearance  of  their  host.  Eliza, 
now  beginning  to  feel  conscious  upon  these  points,  was 
dragged  to  these  visits  as  to  a  sacrifice.  Her  very  heart 
ached  to  introduce  her  barefooted  little  ones  among  the 
Creole  children,  who  instinctively  held  up  their  red  mo 
rocco  shoes  to  provoke  a  comparison.  It  was  now  pal 
pable,  too,  that  if  there  were  parties  and  divisions  and 
heart-burnings  in  New-England  from  one  cause,  there 
were  here  the  same  evils  in  a  different  and  more  aggra 
vated  form.  The  same  innate  seeds  of  evil  temper 
produced  the  same  kind  of  trials,  the  more  galling,  be 
cause  they  were  not  yet  broken  to  them  as  they  had 
been  to  the  other. 

In  this  climate,  every  one  has  remarked  the  human 
form,  intellect,  and  passions  develope  more  early  than  in 
the  north.  Vacant  lands  of  the  greatest  fertility  can 
be  had  at  pleasure.  All  that  is  necessary  for  the  com 
mencement  of  a  new  married  couple  is,  teams,  imple- 
-ments  of  agriculture,  and  a  few  servants.  To  build  the 
bouses,  quarters,  and  stables  of  the  establishment,  is  but 
the  work  of  a  few  days,  and  the  foundation  is  laid  for 
rustic  opulence  and  indolence.  The  amusements  of 
the  husbands  are  hunting,  shooting  at  a  mark,  horse- 
racing,  elections,  cards,  and  drinking;  and  of  the  wives, 
dances,  parties,  and  tracasserie.  Education  and  men 
tal  discipline,  so  far  from  being  necessary  or  in  request, 
are  in  the  few  cases,  where  they  occur,  matters  to  ex 
cite  envy  nnd  ridicule.  Of  course,  having  nothing  to 
learn,  and  little  to  acquire,  they  marry  early.  I  have, 
more  than  once,  seen  mothers  of  fourteen..  It  need  not, 
therefore,  be  matter  of  surprise,  that  Hercules  Pratfall 
did  not  conceal  his  fondness  for  Eliza  Mason,  consider 
ed  by  her  parents  no  more  than  a  child.  Nor  will  those 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  27 

who  know  the  ways  of  the  country,  admire,  that  this 
young  giant  completely  ruled  his  father,  who  ruled  the 
settlement.  It  soon  came  to  the  ears  of  Mrs.  Mason 
that  this  enamoured  Cyclops  would  make  proposals  for 
her  daughter.  This  supposed  good  fortune  was  matter  of 
envy  to  the  other  mothers  and  daughters,  nor  did  it  oc 
cur  to  them  that  she  would  be  disposed,  or  even  dare 
to  reject  this  alliance,  should  it  be  proposed.  The 
prospect  that  it  would  be,  was  a  source  of  serious  ap 
prehension  to  them. 


28  GEORGE  MASON, 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  For  him  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn, 
Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care  ; 
No  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return, 
Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share." 

To  meet  these  evils  they  had  one  grand  resource 
beside  religion.  We  would  to  God  that  every  family  in 
the  world  had  the  same.  Nearly  one  half  of  the  misery 
of  our  earth  comes  from  selfishness  and  disunion  in  fami 
lies.  The  heads  care  not  for  each  other  or  their  children. 
The  members  have  no  sympathies  in  common.  The 
voice  of  angry  jangling,  dispute,  and  separate  interest  is 
heard  in  the  family  dwelling.  Good  angels  scatter  not 
their  blessings  in  such  habitations.  Such  was  not  this 
family.  Their  evening  union  was  one  of  peace,  love, 
and  joy.  Every  one,  even  to  their  youngest  boy, 
brought  love  and  good  feeling  to  the  common  stock. 
From  the  heads  to  the  youngest  member,  whoever 
touched  one  touched  the  whole.  There  was  no  onQ 
of  the  number  that  had  been  taught  to  sit  down  and 
brood  over  his  selfish  joys  by  himself.  The  bright 
evening  fire  was  kindled.  The  Bible  was  read.  They 
prayed  together,  and  each  one  of  these  affectionate  in 
mates  loved  each  other  one,  as  he  loved  his  own  soul. 
This  mutual  affection  shone  in  every  look  and  action. 
The  mother  loved  her  husband  and  her  children  with 
an  affection  almost  guilty  and  idolatrous.  Nor  were 
protestations  of  similar  feelings  on  the  part  of  the  hus 
band  and  the  father  at  all  necessary.  The  unity  and 
beauty  of  this  mutual  attraction,  if  the  comparison 
might  not  seem  too  learned,  was  like  that  of  the  sun  for 
all  the  planets  in  our  system,  which,  in  their  turn,  and 
according  to  their  size  and  importance,  exercise  an  at 
traction  back  again  upon  their  centre.  When  th.e  mem 
bers  of  a  family  really  and  sincerely  love  one  another, 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  29 

this  alone  is  food  and  raiment,  and  society,  and  cheer 
fulness,  and  every  ihing.  To  such  ja  family  external 
sorrows  and  troubles  are  what  weight  is,  pressing  upon 
an  arch,  the  strength  of  which  increases  with  the 
amount  of  pressure  applied.  But  when  to  poverty  and 
trouble  and  evil  report  and  sickness,  are  added  selfish 
ness,  jarring,  disputing,  and  quarrelling  within,  I  know 
not  how  the  members  of  such  a  family  can  sustain  life. 
With  this  resource,  notwithstanding  their  passing  dis 
quietudes  and  vexations,  the  winter  wore  away  comfort 
ably  and  pleasantly.  On  every  fine  sunshine  day  Mr. 
Mason  was  seen  along  with  young  George  before  the  sun 
beams  kad  dispersed  the  frost,  girdling  the  trees.  The 
latter  had  his  little  axe  and  grubbing-hoe,  cutting  down 
the  smaller  trees,  and  grubbing  up  the  shrubs  by  their 
roots,  delighted  with  the  mellow  appearance  and  the 
healthy  smell  of  the  virgin  mould.  A  hundred  times  his 
delight  was  excited  by  seeing  the  gray  and  black  squir-* 
rels  skip  away  from  the  trees  which  he  began  to  fell.  The 
parroquets,  in  their  splendid  livery  of  green  and  gold, 
were  fluttering  about  among  the  sycamores,  raising  their 
shrill  scream,  as  disagreeable  as  their  plumage  is  bril 
liant,  and  seemed  to  be  scolding  at  these  meddlers  with 
the  freshness  of  their  empire.  The  red-bird,  springing 
away  from  the  briar  copse,  which  he  began  to  disturb 
with  his  grubbing-hoe  ;  the  powerful  mocking-bird  seat 
ed  at  its  leisure  on  a  dead  branch,  and  pouring  its  gay 
song,  and  imitating  every  noise  that  was  heard  ;  the 
loud  and  joyous  bark  of  the  family  dog,  as  he  was  pur 
suing  his  own  sport  beside  them,  digging  for  an  opos 
sum  ;  the  morning  crow  of  the  cock  ;  the  distant  cry  of 
the  hounds  in  the  settlement,  ringing  through  the  for 
ests  ;  the  morning  mists,  lying  like  the  finest  drapery  of 
muslin,  spread  over  the  tops  of  the  trees  ;  these,  and  a 
thousand  mingled  and  joyous  morning  cries  of  animals 
in  the  woods,  filled  his  young  and  susceptible  heart 
with  the  purest  joy.  Excitement  and  the  fulness  of  joy 
often  arrested  his  axe  and  his  grubbing-hoe.  The 


30 


GEORGE  MASON, 


father  once  saw  him  musing  in  this  way,  and  asked 
him  of  what  he  was  thinking. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you,"  replied  George,  laying  his  hand 
upon  his  bosom,  "  how  glad  I  feel  -here,  this  morning. 
When  I  see  the  sun  slanting  his  light  along  the  white 
arms  of  the  sycamores,  and  hear  the  birds  sing,  and 
every  thing  so  gay,  I  cannot  tell  you  how  happy  I  am. 
How  different  is  all  this  from  January  in  New-England  ! 
Yet,  glad  as  I  feel  here,  I  cannot  forget  th^old  church 
and  the  grave-yard,  and  the  school-house,  and  my 
school-mates.  Oh  !  if  one  could  be  here,  and  there  at 
the  same  time  !  Before  the  people  came  here  it  was 
all  woods,  without  people.  Yet,  I  suppose,  the  birds 
sung  as  sweetly  then  as  now." 

"  Undoubtedly,  my  son,"  answered  the  father.  "  This 
forest  was  a  temple  of  God  as  soon  as  the  waters  flow 
ed,  and  the  trees  were  green,  as  much  as  now.  All 
these  joyous  sounds,  which  you  hear,  were  the  morning 
praises  of  the  Almighty.  Who  knows  but  His  angels 
feel  the  same  joy  at  contemplating  these  green  solitudes 
which  we  do  ?  There  may  be  eyes  to  see,  and  ears  to 
hear  in  these  forests,  which  we  cannot  behold." 

In  such  conversations  and  such  pursuits  passed  away 
the  morning,  until  breakfast. 

When  the  labor  of  clearing  was  resumed  after  break 
fast,  the  mother  and  Eliza  came  out,  attended  by  the 
younger  children,  and  looked  on  the  work  as  they  sat 
knitting  on  the  logs  beside  the  clearing.  The  crash  of 
a  falling  tree  was  a  grand  object  of  awaited  excitement 
and  terror  to  them.  Henry,  a  fine  stout  boy  of  ten, 
had  already  obtained  permission  to  take  his  share  in 
these  labors.  Not  unfrequently  the  whole  group  of 
laborers  would  suspend  their  toils  from  laughter,  to  see 
him  tug  upon  the  branch  of  a  shrub,  catching  by  its  points 
upon  others  and  pulling  him  back,  delighted  to  see  his 
little  cheeks  flush  with  pride  and  exercise,  and  to  note 
the  promise  of  future  perseverance  in  seeing  him  tug 
until  he  had  overcome  the  resistance  and  added  it  to 
the  pile. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  31 

After  sunset  it  was  a  high  treat  to  the  children  to  fire 
the  huge  piles  of  dry  bushes  and  logs,  heaped  for  burn 
ing,  and  see  the  flames  rising  above  the  tops  of  the 
highest  trees,  gleaming  in  the  forests,  enlightening  every 
object  as  far  as  they  could  see,  and  disturbing  the  owls 
and  roosting  birds  from  their  retreats.  The  noise  of 
the  bursting  cane-stalks  was  like  the  report  of  a  thou 
sand  guns,  and  they  called  these  evening  fires  their 
celebrations.*  Not  but  there  were  discouragements  and 
difficulties  even  in  this  work  of  clearing.  Mr.  Mason 
was  both  unused  to  labor  and  feeble  in  health.  A  sin 
gle  Mississippi  sycamore  of  the  larger  size,  afforded 
three  days'  occupation  for  his  best  exertions  to  cut 
down.  Of  course  he  was  compelled  to  allow  all  the 
larger  trees  to  stand  in  his  clearing,  only  deadening 
them  by  girdling.  His  taste  on  this  as  on  every  sub 
ject,  was  severe  to  a  morbid  excess.  How  it  grieved 
him  to  see  his  rich  and  level  field  marred  in  its  appear 
ance  by  a  hundred  huge,  standing,  dead  trees,  and  the 
broken  limbs  and  branches,  that  the  wind  was  constantly 
detaching  from  them  to  the  ground.  It  was  trying  to 
his  pride,  too,  to  have  one  of  his  coarse  neighbour  plant 
ers  regard  his  work  with  a  sneer  of  affected  pity,  ex 
pressed  in  conversation  something  like  this  :  <;  Why, 
doctor,  if  you  do  not  get  a  greater  force  you  will  have 
a  field  hardly  large  enough  for  a  truck  patch.  One  of 
my  negroes  will  cut  away  more  trees  in  d  day  than 
»you  would  in  a  month.  Doctor,  you  want  some  ne 
groes."  But  he  generally  took  especial  care  not  to 
oiler  their  services. 

But  the  severest  of  the  whole  experiment  was  split 
ting  rails.  This  was  a  task  absolutely  beyond  the 
strength  of  young  George.  The  kind-hearted  boy  was 
assiduous  to  hand  the  wedges  and  the  maul  to  his  ex 
hausted  father.  In  this  most  laborious  business  there  is 
a  dexterity  to  be  learned  only  by  practice.  Many  a 
tree,  cut  down  \vith  great  labor,  would  not  split  at  all. 
It  was  long  beTore  Mr.  Mason,  with  his  utmost  exer- 


32  GEORGE  MASON, 

tions,  could  make  twenty-five  in  a  day.  It  did  not 
help  the  matter  to.be  told  by  those  who  looked  on  his 
work,  that  one  hundred  and  fifty  a  day  was  the  regular 
task  of  each  one  of  their  negroes.  At  night  the  father's 
hands  were  one  blister.  Poor  George  could  count  his 
blisters  too.  Mrs.  Mason  bound  up  their  sore  hands, 
and  turned  away  her  face  to  conceal  her  tears.  The 
severe  toil,  too,  caused  Mr.  Mason  rheumatic  pains  and 
sleepless  nights.  He  found,  moreover,  when  stormy 
weather  confined  him  to  the  house,  that  a  body  full  of 
the  pains  of  exhausting  labor,  would  not  allow  scope  to 
his  thoughts,  when  he  sat  down  to  his  great  work  with 
his  pen.  Unremitting  toil,  in  such  a  frame,  blunts  the 
sensibilities,  suspends  the  exercise  of  the  imagination 
and  fancy,  and  after  a  fruitless  effort  to  stir  up  his 
thoughts,  he  was  compelled  to  admit,  that  severe  labor 
and  writing  are  incompatible.  But  neither  the  voice  of 
complaining  nor  of  dejection  was  heard  ;^for  in  this  fam 
ily  there  was  union,  mutual  affection,  prayer,  confidence 
in  God,  and  the  hope  of  immortality. 

The  middle  of  March  was  soon  at  hand  ;  and  in  this 
climate  it  is  the  dawn  of  Spring.  The  wilderness  be 
gan  to  be  gay.  The  Red  Bud  in  a  thousand  places 
was  one  compact  tuft  of  peach-blow  flowers.  The  um 
brella  tops  of  the  Dogwoods  were  covered  with  their 
large  blossoms  of  brilliant  white.  At  every  step  the 
feet  trampled  on  clusters  of  violets.  The  swelling  buds 
and  the  half  formed  leaves  diffused  on  every  side  the? 
delicious  aroma  of  Spring.  The  labors  of  Mr.  Mason 
had  been  slow  and  painful,  but  they  had  been  constant 
and  persevering.  A  little  every  day  soon  makes  a 
great  result.  In  four  months  the  clearing  was  increas 
ed  from  six  to  nine  acres,  which  were  well  fenced  and 
prepared  for  planting.  The  surface  of  the  soil  was 
black,  rich,  and  perfectly  tender.  It  was  a  pleasant 
novelty  to  him  to  plant  corn  without  ploughing,  and 
among  thick  deadened  trees,  reaching  almost  to  the 
clouds.  The  field  was  laid  out  in  rows  in  right  lines, 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  33 

by  taking  sight  from  one  tree  to  another.  The  father 
went  before,  making  a  hole  for  the  corn  with  his  hoe. 
George  followed  dropping  the  corn,  and  covering  it 
with -his.  Eliza,  with  her  face  shaded  by  her  large  sun 
bonnet,  and  Henry  with  his  broad  straw  hat,  with  little 
bags  pinned  to  their  sides,  walked  beside  George  and 
his  father.  They  carried  beans,  the  seeds  of  pump 
kins,  squashes,  cucumbers,  and  the  different  kinds  of 
melons,  to  hand  to  each,  where  a  place  offered,  that 
seemed  suitable  to  these  seeds.  A  garden,  or,  as  the 
people  call  it,  a  truck  patch,  was  also  prepared,  and 
sowed,  and  planted  with  such  seeds  and  transplanted 
vegetables  as  their  more  considerate  neighbours  taught 
them,  were  congenial  to  the  soil  and  climate,  or  would 
be  luxuries  in  the  summer,  or  capable  of  being  pre 
served  through  the  winter. 

The  violent  thunderstorms  of  that  climate  and  season 
were  at  first  a  source  of  alarm  to  the  family.  They 
trembled  as  they  heard  the  thunder  echoing  through 
the  forests,  and  saw  the  lightning  firing  the  high,  dead 
trees.  They  soon  perceived  that  the  thunderbolts  fell 
harmless  to  the  earth.  Their  ears  became  accustomed 
to  the  crash,  and  the  beautiful  mornings,  that  ensued, 
hailed  by  all  the  birds  of  spring,  and  embalming  the  air 
with  the  mingled  ambrosia  of  the  forest,  more  than 
compensated  for  the  passing  terrors  of  the  night. 
There  are  a  few,  and  I  could  wish  there  were  many  lov 
ers  of  nature,  who  will  be  able  to  comprehend  the  en 
joyment  of  this  family,  on  visiting  their  field  the  first  Sab 
bath  after  their  crop  had  fully  come  up.  It  is  a  delightful 
spectacle  to  any  one  that  has  eyes  and  a  heart.  But 
this  family  loved  nature  with  a  keen  relish  for  her  pleas 
ures.  It  was  the  promise  of  future  support  to  a  family 
that  had  nothing  else  on  which  to  depend.  It  promised 
future  subsistence  and  comfort  to  all  they  loved  on 
earth.  It  was  cultivated  vegetation,  just  sprung  up 
on  the  wild  soil,  where  nothing  but  weeds  and  bush 
es  had  flourished  from  the  creation.  I  enter  into  their 


34  GEORGE  MASON, 

delight,  as  their  eye  caught  the  straight  stems  of  the 
corn,  rising  in  lines  that  already  marked  the  rows  with 
a  strength  of  vegetation  and  a  depth  of  verdure,  which 
they  had  never  seen  corn  wear  before.  Parents  and 
children  gazed  with  unsated  eagerness  upon  the  melons 
and  cucumbers,  starting  up  with  leaves  broader  arid 
fresher  than  any  they  had  ever  beheld  in  New-England, 
There  they  required  great  care  in  preparing  the  hills, 
and  laborious  attention  to  the  kind  and  amount  of  the 
manure.  Here  they  were  barely  deposited  in  the  vir 
gin  soil.  There,  in  March,  the  ground  was  still  cover 
ed  with  snow.  Here,  these  vegetables  had  already 
thrown  out  the  second  leaves.  The  inspection  of  the 
sweet  potatoe  patch,  which  was  large,  and  the  hills  of 
which  had  been  prepared  with  great  care,  was  a  source 
of  still  more  gratifying  curiosity.  The  family  were  ex 
ceedingly  fond  of  this  nutritious  vegetable,  and  had 
never  seen  it  growing.  There  are  some  minds  so  con 
stituted,  as  to  imagine  with  what  gratified  observation, 
they  watched  the  unfolding  stem,  and  the  first  develop 
ment  of  the  leaves  of  this  beautiful  creeper. 

The  season  was  f-i^or^.b!^  and.  their  crnn  came  for 
ward  to  their  utmost  hopes.  To  watch  its  daily  ad 
vance  was  a  constant  source  of  amusement.  But  the 
sad  leaven  of  sorrow  and  discouragement  remained  at 
the  botom  of  the  cup.  The  high  heats  of  the  new  cli 
mate  began  to  make  themselves  felt  early  in  April. 
The  lassitude  that  ensued  was  a  new  sensation  to  the 
family,  at  first  scarcely  unpleasant.  But  the  increase 
of  this  lassitude,  as  the  season  and  the  heat  advanced, 
became  a  source  of  disheartening  apprehension  to  Mr. 
Mason.  A  half  an  hour's  labor  in  his  field,  after  the 
sun  was^fully  up,  completely  drenched  him  in  perspira 
tion,  and  left  him  powerless  to  renew  his  labor,  until 
after  he  had  rested  an  hour  on  his  mattrass.  The 
reasoning  of  his  inward  apprehension  was,  If  such  be 
the  effect  of  p.n  April  sun,  what  will  be  that  of  July  and 
August?  Had  he  been  aware  of  the  wise  and  kind 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  35 

plan  of  Providence,  in  the  process  of  acclimation,  he 
would  have  dismissed  all  fears  upon  this  head,  and 
would  have  so  accommodated  himself  to  the  impercep 
tible  change  of  the  season,  as  to  have  been  prepared  to 
meet  the  high  heats  of  July  and  August  with  as  little 
inconvenience  as  he  felt  from  those  of  April. 

Their  neighbours,  now  grown  familiar  with  them,  had 
broken  through  the  first  unconscious  restraint,  arising 
from  feeling  the  difference  of  their  education  and  char 
acter.  The  respect  extorted  from  them  by  this  com 
parison,  once  laid  aside,  their  feelings  naturally  vibrated 
to  the  other  extreme.  The  natural  dignity  of  their 
manner  was  now  called  pride  and  self-importance.  "If 
they  were  such  great  people,"  it  was  remarked,  "that 
nobody  must  speak  to  them,  except  with  such  respect, 
why  did  such  poor  folks  come  away  from  a  country, 
where  people  knew  what  was  due  to  them  ?  S( range, 
that  they,  who  had  to  work  like  negroes,  should  hold 
their  heads  so  high  !  It  was  mighty  pretty  to  see  Mrs. 
Mason  and  Eliza  look  so  grand,  merely  because  they 
were  a  little  fairer  than  the  Creoles."  When  Mr.  Ma 
son  did  preach,  he  was  proud  of  his  college  learning, 
and  had  no  religion  ;  and  when  he  did  not  preach,  it 
was  because  he  was  lazy,  and  never  cared  any  thing 
about  it  from  the  first.  There  were  two  or  three  wick 
ed  babblers  among  them,  who  answered  in  this  settle 
ment  the  purposes  of  newspapers  elsewhere,  who  be 
gan  to  whisper  stories,  "  that  the  old  man,"  as  they 
called  Mr.  Mason,  "  had  been  driven  out  of  the  coun 
try  for  slandering  the  President  and  passing  counterfeit 
money  !"  The  effect  of  these  conversations  was  soon 
visible  to  the  family,  in  the  cool  contemptuousness  and 
the  rude  familiarity  of  their  manners  toward  them. 
Many  an  hour  did  the  family  spend  in  vain  conjectures 
what  could  be  the  cause  of  this.  As  these  stories  re 
mained  uncontradicted,  ihe  propagators  began  to  gather 
boldness.  One  of  them,  aware  that  the  family  knew 
not  the  specific  charges  against  them,  and  desiring  that 


36  GEORGE  MASON, 

they  should  have  a  full  taste  of  the  bitterness,  officiously 
pretending  kindness  and  sincerity,  divulged  the  whole 
story,  and  told  them  with  many  an  ingenious  added 
comment  of  his  own,  all  that  was  said  of  them. 

It  does  not  need  much  knowledge  of  human  nature 
to  know  what  kind  of  torment  the  general  circulation  of 
such  reports  would  naturally  create  in  the  bosoms  of  a 
high-minded  famHy,  with  a  keen  sense  of  honor.  They 
had  a  long  debate  in  conclave  upon  the  question,  what 
was  proper  to  be  done  in  the  case,  and  whether  it 
was  better  to  take  any  steps  to  vindicate  themselves. 
In  the  close  of  the  argument  upon  which  Mr.  and  Mad 
am  Mason,  and  George,  and  Eliza,  had  each  given  an 
opinion,  it  was  unanimously  settled,  that  people,  who 
could  invent  and  circulate  such  falsehoods,  would  in 
vent  and  circulate  another  brood  if  these  were  refuted, 
and  that  it  was  wise  and  right  to  treat  the  whole  affair 
with  sitent  contempt.  All  said  that  the  inventors  were 
people  not  worth  the  trouble  of  attempting  to  disprove 
what  they  said.  The  meeting  broke  up  by  a  mutual 
agreement  of  each  member,  to  meet  the  propagators  of 
these  stories  as  before,  and  to  think  and  to  care  noth 
ing  about  the  slanders.  But  while  we  are  in  the  flesh, 
we  shall  always  feel  as  in  the  flesh.  These  high-spir 
ited  children  promised  to  forget,  and  the  more  they  at 
tempted  to  do  it  the  more  deeply  the  remembrance  and 
the  humiliation  rankled  in  their  bosoms.  Time  is  the 
only  efficacious  remedy  for  such  evils. 

Midsummer  already  furnished  their  table  with  green 
corn  and  the  common  table  vegetables  of  the  season  in 
ample  abundance.  But  their  joy  in  view  of  the  pros 
pects  of  their  crops  was  damped  by  observing,  that  as 
the  summer  heals  advanced,  the  health  of  Mr.  Mason 
more  visibly  sunk  under  the  influence  of  the  season. 
He  could  no  longer  labor  abroad  more  than  an  hour  in 
the  day,  and  that  must  be  in  the  morning  before  the 
sun  was  above  the  trees.  The  heavy  dews  which  lay 
like  rain  upon  the  leaves  of  the  corn,  and  the  rank 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  37 

weeds,  were  found  scarcely  less  noxious  to  his  health, 
when  necessarily  drenched  by  them,  than  the  heats  of 
the  sun.  Young  George,  fully  comprehending  the  case, 
labored  from  morning  until  night  to  spare  his  father, 
and  to  keep  down  the  weeds.  It  discouraged  him  to 
see,  that  more  grew  up  in  a  night,  than  he  could  cut 
down  in  a  day. 

In  attempting  to  work  with  his  son  in  the  sweet- 
potatoe  patch  on  the  fourteenth  of  July,  under  the  in 
fluence  of  a  powerful  sun,  Mr.  Mason  expeiienced  a 
sun-stroke,  and  was  aided  to  his  bed  by  the  united  ex 
ertions  of  his  whole  family.  For  three  hours  he  was 
not  expected  to  survive  from  one  moment  to  another. 
I  do  not  design,  nor  wish  to  attempt,  to  describe  the 
agony  of  the  family,  during  this  interval.  He,  who 
knows  how  they  loved  one  another,  can  imagine  it. 
There  are  events,  too,  which  bring  upon  the  mind  the 
stupefaction  of  a  thunder-stroke,  and  it  was  only  when 
Mr.  Mason  exhibited  manifest  signs  of  being  out  of  im 
mediate  danger,  that  tears  were  shed  in  this  family. 

He  slowly  revived  until  the  evening.  At  the  hour  in 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to  lead  in  evening 
prayers,  after  informing  the  children  that  he  was  too 
weak  to  do  it  this  evening,  he  requested  them  to  retire 
into  George's  house,  as  the  smaller  cabin  was  called. 
He  then  held  a  long  and  solemn  conversation  with  Mrs. 
Mason  alone.  A  thousand  of  those  tender  things,  which 
are  appropriate  to  such  conversations,  were  said  upon 
both  sides.  They  were  such  things  as  such  a  husband 
would  naturally  say,  in  such  circumstances,  to  a  wife 
so  loved,  and  who  had  been  for  so  many  years  the 
faithful  and  inseparable  companion  of  his  toils,  who  was 
the  mother  of  his  children,  who  was  at  once  so  destitute 
and  helpless,  and  whom  he  felt  he  was  about  to  leave 
to  the  sole  care  of  his  five  children.  I  know  that  such 
circumstances  are  occurring  somewhere  every  hour  5 
but  if  the  bare  recounting  them  does  not  make  my 
reader  feel  the  situation  of  Mr.  Mason,  I  am  aware, 
4 


38  GEORGE  MASON, 

that  nothing,  which  I  can  say,  will  do  it.  Having;  made 
many  of  those  remarks,  touching  his  situation,  and  hers, 
and  his  wishes  in  regard  to  her  and  the  children  for 
the  future,  she  rallied  fortitude  to  ask,  why  he  chose  to 
make  such  remarks  at  this  lime. 

*  Bee  use,  Eliza,"  he  replied  calmly,  and  taking  her 
hand,  "  I  am  convinced  I  shall  never  rise  from  the  ill 
ness  which  this  disaster  has  occasioned  me." 

IVIrs.  Mason  aswered  him  with  tears,  embraces,  and 
denials,  and  an  extravagance  of  grief,  which  soon  spent 
itself  hy  its  own  excess.  He  replied  calmly,  that,  "  ra 
tional  beings  were  bound  by  every  consideration  to  take 
a  forecasting  contemplation  of  great  changes  of  condi 
tion  that  were  certainly  before  them,  and  that  it  much 
more  became  such  persons  as  they  were,  to  foresee  the 
evils  before  them,  and  forearm  themselves  against  them, 
than  to  shut  their  eyes,  like  children,  upon  consequen 
ces,  and  shrink  from  duty,  through  the  enervating  influ 
ence  of  grief/'  He  inculcated  again  and  again  upon 
his  wife,  sobbing  upon  his  bosom,  that  he  now  felt  it 
had  been  the  fault  of  them  both,  that  they  had  fostered 
a  morbid  and  shrinking  temperament,  the  effect  of 
which  had  been  to  unnerve  them,  and  unfit  them  for 
the  sterner  duties  of  life  He  solemnly  insisted  upon  an 
absolute  trust  in  the  sustaining  and  gracious  care  of  the 
Almighty,  and  he  placed  before  her  the  guilt  of  distrust 
ing  the  love  and  the  mercy  of  Him,  "  who  noteth  the 
fall  of  a  sparroiv,  and  heareth  the  young  ravens,  when 
they  cry  !  " 

"  Dear  Eliza,"  he  continued,  "  I  am  aware  that  after 
I  am  first  gone,  it  will  be  to  no  purpose,  to  expect  you 
to  be  wise  and  firm  at  once.  You  know  where  I  am 
to  rest,  under  the  sycamore.  Come  there,  and  think 
of  the  days  which  we  have  spent  together)  and  give 
scope  to  the  first  bursts  of  grief.  The  wise  and  the 
unchangeable  laws  of  Providence  will  prevent  my  being 
visible  to  you.  But  I  feel  that  in  whatever  place  and 
in  whatever  manner  the  All  Gracious  and  All  Good 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


39 


shall  dispose  of  me,  ibis  mind  and  this  heart  must  lose 
their  identity,  if  I  should  cease  to  love  you  and  my 
children  less  than  I  do  now.  Nor  w  11  He,  who  gave 
me  this  spirit,  so  imprison  it  as  that  I  shall  not  be  able 
to  descend  to  the  summits  of  the  forest,  to  look  in  upon 
you  in  the  morning,  and  to  cheer  you  to  the  duty  of 
watching  over  our  children.  I  cannot  now  foresee 
what  you  will  do  for  subsistence,  or  how  you  will  be 
able  to  rear  our  dear  helpless  children  among  these 
rough  and  wicked  people.  But  1  have  seen  a  thousand 
times  that  God  never  forsakes  them,  who  do  not  forsake 
themselves.  You  know  my  motto,  "  Nil  despeiandum" 
You  have  heard  me  repeat  it  a  thousand  times.  1  am 
fully  conscious  that  I  have  acted  too  little  in  the  spirit 
of  this  motto  myself.  I  have  prayed  God  a  hun 
dred  times,  that  my  children,  and  especially  my  dear 
George,  may  be  of  a  firmer  spirit  than  I  have  had. 
Perhaps  I  have  done  wrong  to  bring  you  here.  It  is 
useless  now  to  spend  time  in  mourning  over  what  is  ir 
retrievable.  Besides,  at  the  time  of  coming  to  the  de 
cision,  to  bring  you  here,  I  called  in  aid  all  the  reason 
and  forecast  that  I  possessed  to  the  deliberation.  With 
rny  temperament  and  under  the  same  circumstances,  I 
should,  probably,  come  to  the  same  determination 
again.  1  know  you  are  too  kind  not  to  forgive  what 
was  done  for  the  best,  even  if  it  were  wrong.  I  think, 
too,  had  it  pleased  God  to  spare  me  a  few  years,  that 
I  should  have  become  comfortable  in  my  circumstan 
ces,  and  should  have  felt,  that  I  had  done  wisely  in 
seeking  independence  in  this  way.  As  regards  the  fu 
ture,  I  thank  God,  that  my  mind  is  fixed  and  settled. 
I  shall  resign  my  spirit  in  humble  confidence  to  Him 
who  gave  it,  thanking  Him,  that  through  his  dear  Son, 
my  Saviour,  I  have  not  an  axiety  about  it  ;  but  am 
humbly  confident,  that  in  His  own  gracious  way,  and  in 
the  mansion  fitted  for  it,  He  will  render  me  happy." 

To   such   conversations,  which,  to   say  the  truth,  so 
far  as  respected  his  impressions,  that  he  should  not  re- 


40  GEORGE  MASON, 

cover,  she  had  ofton  listened  before,  Mrs.  Mason  could 
only  reply,  that  she  had  frequently  seen  him  dis 
couraged  in  the  same  way,  and  ihat  she  had  found  him 
recover  notwithstanding  ;  that  she  did  not  allow  herself 
to  doubt  for  a  moment,  that  he  would  recover  now  ; 
that  she  was  ready  to  promise,  if  she  survived  him,  that 
she  would  do  the  best  she  could  ;  and  that  she  was  very 
sure,  that  the  best  would  be  so  unworthily,  that  he  had 
much  better  live,  and  see  to  the  management  of  the 
family  himself.  Thus  this  solemn  conversaiion  termi 
nated  ;  he  assuring  her,  that  he  felt  his  present  case 
different  from  any  thing  he  had  ever  experienced  be 
fore  ;  and  she,  the  more  earnestly  she  was  urged  to 
promise  him  to  be  courageous  and  resigned  after  he 
was  gone,  returning  to  the  beaten  track  of  former 
thought  and  conversation,  and  warning  him  that  the  only 
way  to  give  her  courage  was,  to  promise  her  to  get 
well. 

This  event  occurred  on  Saturday.  During  that  night 
he  was  feverish  and  restless.  Although,  as  she  remark 
ed,  Mrs.  Mason  had  often  heard  him  assert,  in  his 
periodical  turns  of  ill  heath  and  discouragement,  that  he 
should  never  recover,  she  felt  this  night  more  than 
usually  ahrmed  respecting  him.  While  he  lay  delirious, 
and  breathing  thick  and  pantingly,  in  short  and  disturbed 
slumbers,  the  dreadful  thought  presented  itself  to  her, 
for  the  first  time,  that  the  husband  of  her  youth  was 
about  to  leave  her.  The  loneliness  and  destitution  of 
her  case,  in  .such  a  country,  and  with  the  care  of  so 
many  helpless  children,  came  upon  her  mind  in  all  the 
gloorn  and  dismay  of  the  scene.  Those  deep  and 
bitter  meditations,  with  which  strangers  do  not  inter 
meddle,  passed  rapidly  within.  There  is  but  one  abid 
ing  resource  in  cases  like  these.  Happy,  and  thrice 
happy  they,  who  can  resort  to  it  with  humble  bold 
ness.  Mrs.  Mason  had  that  happiness.  She  often  and 
earnestly  wrestled  with  God  for  her  dear  husband,  if  it 
were  possible,  that  the  cup  of  death  might  pass  from 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  41 

him.  For  herself  she  prayed,  "  Our  Father,  who  art 
in  heaven!  in  this  my  extreme  distress  and  dismay, 
Thou  only  canst  help.  My  husband,  each  of  my  dear 
children,  and  myself,  owe  Thee  a  death.  Give  us  re 
signation  and  confidence,  meekly  to  pay  it  in  thine 
own  time  and  way.  Only  do  Thou,  in  thy  great  mercy, 
sustain  us,  while  we  are  here,  and  when  we  depart,  do 
Thou  save  our  souls." 

Next  day  Mr.  Mason  had  strong  fever  and  shortness  of 
breathing,  and  was  wholly  unable  to  rise  from  his  bed. 
The  heat  of  the.  season  was  intense,  and  the  exhausting 
ardors  of  the  dog-star  were  in  the  sky.     The  paleness 
of  foreboding   anxiety  was  spread   over  every  counte 
nance   in  the    family.     The    physician    resided    at  the 
distance  of  eight   miles,  and  Mr..  Mason   affirmed,  that 
his  complaint  was  of  a  kind   to   receive  no   advantage 
from   his   aid,    and  he  was  wholly   unwilling   that  they 
should    incur  the   useless  expense   of  sending  for  him. 
Mrs.   Mason   allowed    him    to   believe   that   his  wishes 
should  be  fulfilled,  and  resorted  to  the  innocent  decep- 
'  tion  of  sending  for  a  physician,  without  apprising  him  of  it. 
George  promptly  offered  to  take  the  trace  through  the 
woods  to  the  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  where  the  physi 
cian  resided.     Henry  begged   to    be  allowed   to  attend 
him.     A  pretext  was  invented,  to  account  to  Mr.  Mason 
for   their  absence   through   the  day.     A  maternal  tear 
stood  in  the  eye  of  Mrs.  Mason  as  she  kissed  them,  and 
bade  them  make  haste,  arid  not  return  without  bringing 
the    doctor.     A    trip    of  sixteen    miles,    through    dark 
forests,  in  which  they  would  not  pass   a  single   house, 
was  an  exploit  sufficiently  daunting  for  two  such  young 
and  inexperienced  boys.     Love  triumphs  over  fear  and 
death  ;  and  these  boys  so  dearly  loved  their  father,  that 
nothing  was  formidable  to  them,  which  they  could   do 
for   him.     Such    conversations    passed    between    these 
affectionate  boys,  as  might  be  expected  from  their  years, 
their  errand,  and  the  forests  through  which  they  passed. 
Little  Henry  was  afraid  of  the  wolves,  bears,  and  pan- 
4* 


42  GEORGE  MASON, 

thers.  More  than  once  he  cried  with  the  soreness  of 
his  feet.  Their  thoughts  naturally  tended  to  despond 
ence.  Once  they  lost  their  way,  mistaking  a  cow-path 
for  their  trace.  None  can  tell,  if  they  would  not  have 
vyandered  into  the  inextricable  tangle  of  the  swamps, 
and  have  perished,  had  they  not  providentially  been 
met  by  a  man  hunting  his  cattle  on  horseback.  He, 
seeing  them  wandering  on  towards  the  swamps,  naturally 
comprehended  their  mistake,  and  led  them  back,  and 
put  them  on  the  right  way.  They  arrived  at  length  on  the 
ban.ks  of  the  river,  and  told  their  tale  of  distress.  The 
physician  was  absent,  not  to  return  until  night.  They 
received  the  promise,  that  he  should  be  sent  on  imme 
diately  upon  his  return.  The  people  of  the  house, 
where  the  doctor  boarded,  pitied  them,  and  received 
them  kindly.  They  gave  them  a  glass  of  milk  and  a 
slice  of  corn  bread.  But  nothing  could  induce  the  af 
fectionate  children  to  tarry  longer  than  half  an  hour.  They 
insisted  upon  starting  back  to  see  how  their  dear  father 
was.  The  hour  of  their  return  was  that  of  burning  noon  j 
but  their  road  was  one  continued  covert  of  shade.  Be 
sides,  such  children  as  these  always  find  the  road  home 
easier  to  travel,  than  that  from  home.  The  loneliness  of 
the  way,  and  their  apprehensions  from  the  wild  beasts, 
and  their  fears  of  getting  lost  again,  took  from  them  the 
disposition  to  converse  much  on  the  way.  They  pushed 
on  at  the  extent  of  their  walking  speed,  casting  fearful 
glances  among  the  bushes,  as  birds,  or  small  animals 
disturbed  them.  They  had  arrived  in  this  way,  as  they 
judged,  within  three  miles  of  home,  when  the  fatigue  of 
the  way,  and  exhaustion  from  the  heat,  compelled  them 
to  sit  down  and  rest  themselves. 

They  reclined  themselves  on  a  patch  of  wild  grass  at 
the  foot  of  a  tree.  The  cheering  thought,  that  they 
were  so  near  home,  restored  to  them  courage  and  a  dis 
position  to  converse,  and  the  following  conversation 
passed  between  them. 

Henry.     "  My  feet  are  not  half  so  sore  coming  back, 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  43 

as  they  were  on  the  way  out  to  the  river.  Why  should 
they  ache  less  now,  than  they  did  then?" 

George.  "  It  must  he  because  we  love  home  and 
the  folks  there  so  dearly,  that  love  pushes  us  on,  and 
keeps  us  from  feeling  the  soreness." 

Henry.  "  Yes  ;  that  is  just  the  case.  Dear  George, 
I  am  forced  to  shut  rny  eyes,  whenever  I  think  how 
papa  looked.  I  never  saw  him  look  so  before,  nor 
mama  seem  so  strange.  Do  you  know  what  is  the 
matter  ?" 

George.  "  Indeed  I  do  not.  But  I  heard  him  tell 
mother  last  night,  that  he  was  certainly  going  to  die." 

Henry,  (beginning  to  cry.)  "  Father  shan't  die.  If  he 
does,  Henry  will  die  too.  How  came  he  to  come  away 
to  this  wicked  country  to  die  ?  When  he  dies,  we  shall 
all  starve  to  death  here  in  the  woods,  and  the  wolves 
will  come  into  the  house,  and  eat  us.  I  am  sure  the 
wicked  people  that  talked  against  papa,  would  not  give 
us  a  slice  of  bread,  to  keep  us  from  starving." 

George.  "  Henry,  don't  talk  so  to  me.  I  feel  it  in 
my  heart  to  hate  the  people  there  in  New-England,  that 
drove  us  away  to  this  wild  country.  I  could  speak  just 
such  words  about  them,  as  the  wicked  people  used  in 
the  boat,  when  we  carne  down  the  river.  Oh  !  it  is  too 
bad,  to  think  what  will  become  of  dear  little  Bill  and 
Tom,  and  mother,  sister  and  all,  when  father  dies. 
I  should  rather  a  thousand  times  we  might  all  die  to 
gether." 

The  boys  were  tired.  The  evening  and  the  hour  of 
discouragement  was  coming  upon  them.  Henry  sob 
bed,  as  if  his  heart  would  break.  George,  too,  who 
had  been  praised  in  the  family  for  his  strength  of  char 
acter,  was  unnerved,  to  see  his  brother  cry,  and  the  tears 
coursed  one  another  down  his  cheeks.  They  had  both 
indu'ged  in  this  way  for  some  time,  when  George,  sum 
moning  courage,  sprang  on  his  feet,  kissed  his  brother, 
and  wiped  his  eyes.  "  Get  up,  Henry,  and  leave  off 
crying.  We  can't  die  but  once,  thank  God.  How 


44 


GEORGE  MASON, 


often  has  father  said  over  his  Latin  words  to  us,  which 
mean,  '  Don't  give  up  the  ship.'  I  am  getting  strong, 
you  see.  I  feel  that  I  am  to  be  a  man.  I  love  my 
dear  father  better  than  rny  eyes.  But,  you  know,  he 
is  always  sick.  It  is  a  hard  thing  to  think,  that  my 
poor  father  must  die.;  but  then  lie  will  be  sick  no  more, 
and  will  be  happy  in  heaven.  Never  fear.  I  will  take 
care  of  all,  when  he  is  gone.  To  take  care  of  mother, 
and  the  rest  of  you,  I  would  work  like  a  slave,  and  be 
stronger  than  a  lion.  Don't  cry  any  more,  Henry ; 
father  will  get  well,  when  the  doctor  conies.  While 
he  is  sick,  I  will  work  harder,  and  take  care  of  you  all." 
Saying  this,  he  looked  cheerful,  and  took  his  brother  by 
the  hand,  and  raised  him  up,  embraced  him,  and  kissed 
him  again  and  again,  and  talked  to  him  in  a  voice  so 
firm  and  cheering,  that  Henry  caught  something  of  his 
courage  and  cheerfulness,  and  rose  up,  and  they  re 
sumed  their  way,  taking  each  other  by  the  hand.  Shortly 
after  they  arrived  safely  at  home. 

The  physician  in  due  time  arrived,  and  expressed  no 
certain  opinion  in  reference  to  the  case  of  his  patient. 
Hope  and  fear  alternately  swayed  the  family  for  some 
days,  and.  they  endured  the  wearing  agony  of  suspense. 
Mr.  Mason  was  sometimes  better,  and  sometimes  worse, 
and  as  happens  to  nervous  people,  was  elevated,  or 
depressed  in  his  mind,  according  to  his  passing  feelings: 
Sometimes  he  was  encouraged  to  think  he  might  recover 
speedily  ;  and  in  an  hour  afterwards  was  in  complete 
despondency.  Perhaps  he  might  have  recovered,  had 
he  been  able  to  obtain  the  common  comforts  which  his 
case  required.  But  the  depressing  heat  of  the  season 
was  against  him.  Affection  and  ingenuity  devised  every 
thing  that  the  field,  the  garden,  or  the  woods  could 
yield,  in  the  way  of  sustenance,  or  medicine.  But 
neither  affection  nor  ingenuity  can  create  from  nothing  ; 
and  a  hundred  things,  so  necessary  to  the  comfort  and 
recovery  of  a  sick  man,  like  him,  were  absolutely  out 
of  the  question  in  that  place.  Every  one  of  the  family 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  45 

seemed  completely  vanquished  with  grief  and  dejec 
tion,  but  George.  Since  his  return  from  the  river  to 
procure  the  physician,  his  character  appeared  to  have 
undergone  an  entire  transformation.  He  alone  shed  no 
tears.  He  looked  thoughtful,  but  wa=;  always  calm. 
It  was  sufficiently  evident,  at  the  same  time,  that  this 
apparently  strange  conduct,  in  an  inexperienced  boy  of 
fourteen,  who  had  been  hitherto  supposed  to  possess 
the  keenest  sensibility,  did  not  at  all  result  from  want 
of  feeling;  but  from  a  high  purpose,  and  a  fixed  de 
termination,  not  to  allow  grief  and  discouragement  to 
unnerve  him  from  his  duty.  His  thoughts  appeared 
constantly  occupied  in  invei,ting  some  kind  of  food,  or 
drink,  that  might  be  strengthening  or  pleasant  to  his 
father.  He  seemed  at  once  to  be  endowed  with  cour 
age,  vigilance,  and  patience  for  watching  with  him,  and 
the  skill  and  management  cf  a  nurse  to  take  care  of 
him.  It  was  affecting,  to  see  with  what  heroism,  zeal, 
and  tenderness  this  noble  boy  discharged  offices,  some 
times  laborious,  sometimes  disagreeable,  and  always 
trying  to  the  patience  and  fortitude  even  of  professed 
attendants  upon  the  sick.  It  was  love  that  taught  him, 
and  every  where,  and  in  all  trials,  love  can  teach  every 
thing,  and,  like  faith,  can  remove  mountains. 

The  love  of  Mr.  IVlason,  for  this  son,  had  not  been 
visibly  partial,  but  he  had  been  the  helper  and  the  com 
panion  of  his  father.  The  firmness  of  the  child  exactly 
matched  with  the  ever-changing  spirits  of  the  parent. 
It  will  be  manifest,  that  this  display  of  such  new  and 
untried  proofs  of  character  in  the  son,  on  such  an  oc 
casion,  would  not  abate  the  affection  and  confidence  of 
the  father.  The  rest,  the  mother,  Eliza,  and  Henry, 
took  their  turn,  indeed,  in  watching  ;  but  nothing  ever 
kept  George  long  from  his  station  beside  the  bed,  by 
night  and  by  day.  There  sat  the  one  holding  the  hand 
of  his  father,  and  looking  steadily  on  his  pale  and  ema 
ciated  face.  The  look  that  was  every  moment  return 
ed,  was  that  undescribed  gaze,  that  explains  all  that 


46  GEORGE  MASON, 

can  be  explained,  of  the  bitterness  of  parting,  and  the 
dreaded  mystery  of  death.  Whenever  George  was  for 
a  moment  away,  and  the  father  startled  from  sleep  in 
his  absence,  the  first  thing  that  his  eye  sought  was  this 
cherished  son.  When  George  returned,  resumed  his 
place,  and  asked  what  he  could  do,  the  reply,  as  his 
satisfied  countenance  rested  upon  his  son,  was,  "  Noth- 
ing." 

The  sickness  of  Mr.  Mason  had  taken  the  form  of  a 
gradual,  and  almost  imperceptible,  but  fixed,  and  in 
curable  decay.  The  physician  came  a  few  times,  and 
then  assured  Mrs.  Mason,  in  private,  that  he  could  do 
nothing  more  for  him.  It  would  be  to  us  an  affecting, 
as  it  might  be  to  others  a  useful  history,  to  relate  how 
suspense  in  this  family  settled  into  the  conviction,  that 
nothing  could  save  him,  and  that  they  must  prepare  to 
part  with  him.  Words  go  but  a  little  way,  in  explain 
ing  this  process,  every  stage  of  which  is  agony.  The 
heart  of  the  reader  may  not  be  affected  with  it,  as  he 
says,  "  It  is  the  order  of  things  every  where.  It  has 
taken  place  in  uncounted  millions  of  cases,  and  will  so 
continue  to  the  end  of  lime."  True  ;  but  to  this  fam 
ily,  alone  in  the  woods,  it  was  as  hard  and  as  trying  to 
think  of  laying  that  venerated  form  in  the  silence  of 
death  in  the  ground,  as  though  it  were  the  only  case  of 
the  kind,  that  could  ever  happen  on  the  earth. 

We  ought  to  record  for  the  honor  of  human  nature,  that 
the  neighbours,  although  seemingly  insensible,  felt  that 
there  was  misery  in  this  family.  Towards  the  close  of 
his  sickness,  their  slaves  were  sent  every  day  to  watch, 
and  aid  the  family,  and  to  bring  to  it  such  food  and 
comforts  as  their  case  required.  They  performed,  also, 
all  the  laborious  duties  of  preparation  for  harvest,  and 
left  the  family  no  cares  but  to  watch  over  its  dying  head. 
No  grief  arrests  the  steady  course  of  nature.  The  field 
ripened.  The  family  gradually  reached  the  conviction, 
that  their  head  must  be  taken  away,  and  were  still 
snatching  at  the  hope,  that  it  would  be  a  long  time  be- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  47 

fore  he  would  wear  out.  Thus  it  is,  that  like  children 
in  the  dark,  we  contrive  to  shut  our  eyes  upon  events, 
and  as  one  bubble  bursts,  grasp  at  another. 

For  some  days,  before  the  scene  closed,  Mr.  Mason 
was  lethargic,  arousing  only  at  intervals  to  transient  fits 
of  distress,  and  turning  from  side  to  side.  He  spoke 
little  more,  than  to  call  for  water.  The  hand  of  George 
was  instantly  clasped  in  his.  and  his  satisfied  look  told, 
that  he  had  then  obtained  all  that  he  wanted.  His  lips 
would  often  move  for  a  moment,  and  perhaps  a  tear  or 
two  would  roll  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  dozed  again. 

Such  was  the  order  of  things  until  the  twenty-fifth  of 
September.  It  was  Sabbath  evening,  and  a  glorious 
sunset.  The  sun  was  sinking  behind  the  trees  into  the 
misty  veil  of  Indian  summer.  The  turtle-doves  were 
cooing  mournfully  in  the  woods,  as  though  sad  at  the 
departure  of  day.  Mr.  Mason  aroused,  and  instead  of 
relapsing,  as  usual,  into  lethargic  drowsiness,  seemed  to 
revive  to  unwonted  consciousness.  It  was  the  myste 
rious  but  common  and  sublime  effort  of  the  conscious 
spirit^  about  to  take  its  final  flight.  He  requested  that 
his  family  might  assemble  about  his  bed.  The  whole 
family,  even  to  the  youngest  member,  was  instantly  about 
him,  in  that  speechless  awe,  in  that  mute  and  unuttera 
ble  excitement  of  love,  astonishment,  and  terror,  which 
presses  too  hard  upon  the  whole  nature,  to  allow  scope 
to  any  individual  feeling.  They  were  there  to  hear  his 
last  words  and  to  witness  his  last  struggles  with  mortal 
ity.  In  his  left  hand  was  a  hand  of  each  of  the  chil 
dren  ;  in  his  right,  that  of  the  worn,  pale,  and  speech 
less  companion  of  his  toils.  His  eyes  were  turned  up 
wards,  and  his  lips  moved  evidently  in  silent  prayer.  In 
noticing  what  passed  across  his  brow,  any  one  might  have 
seen  the  earnestness  of  his  pleading  with  Him,  who 
heareth  prayer.  It  was  obvious,  that  the  last  move 
ments  of  his  spirit  were  those  of  aironizins:  wrestlings 
with  the  Angel  of  the  covenant,  and  the  solemn  words 
of  mingled  failh,  humility,  and  confidence  in  God,  "  I 


48  GEORGE  MASON, 

will  not  let  Thee  go,  until  Thou  bless  them."  When 
he  had  finished  this  sublime  and  speechless  commun 
ion  of  a  dying  father  with  his  Maker,  in  a  firm  and  dis 
tinct  voice  he  uttered  the  following  words  : 

"The  last  twelve  years  of  my  life  have  been  a  suc 
cession  of  days  of  pain  and  sorrow.  I  have  a  thousand 
times  anticipated  all  the  circumstances  of  this  hour. 
For  myself,  I  should  rejoice  to  be  gone.  Death  is  but 
the  pang  of  a  moment.  All  that  is  terrible  in  this  hour 
is,  in  leaving  you  behind.  Love  of  you  has  such  entire 
possession  of  this  heart,  that  it  seems  to  me,  as  if  it 
could  not  grow  cold.  Eliza,  my  wife,  you  need 
strength,  and  while  you  implore  it  of  God,  struggle  for 
it  yourself.  We  are  not  here  in  sin  and  tears,  to  melt 
in  sorrow,  but  to  conflict  firmly  with  trial,  temptation, 
and  at  last  with  death.  My  last  charge  to  you  is,  to 
shed  as  few  tears  for  me,  as  may  be,  after  I  am  gone, 
and  to  strive  to  associate  pleasant  instead  of  painful  re 
membrances  with  the  intercourse  we  have  had  togeth 
er  and  with  this  parting.  Gird  up  the  loins  of  your 
mind,  and  strengthen  yourself  in  the  strength  of  God  for 
your  duty.  Above  all,  look  to  God,  and  never  despair. 
Will  you  promise  your  dying  husband  this  .?  " 

A  shuddering  movement  of  her  head  gave  consent. 

"  For  you,  George,''  he  continued,  "'  I  see  the  firmness 
of  duty  in  your  eye.  God  has  endowed  you,  as  by  a  mir 
acle,  with  the  strength  of  mind  necessary  to  take  care  of 
this  helpless  family.  You  are  to  labor,  and  to  pray,  that 
you  may  become,  as  of  iron,  that  you  may  have  no  sen 
sibilities,  no  fountains  of  tears;  that  you  may  act  with 
the  singleness  of  firm  and  wise  judgment  for  these  dear 
ones,  that  I  now  commit,  under  God,  to  your  care. 
In  the  management  of  them,  will  you  be  faithful,  wise, 
affectionate,  and  what  I,  your  father,  have  not  been, 
firm  ?  You  are  young,  to  take  such  a  charge,  and 
make  such  a  promise." 

A  slight  spasm  passed  over  the  beautiful  and  sun 
burnt  face  of  the  noble  boy,  which  indicated,  that  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  49 

machinery  of  tears  was  in  operation.  It  was  the  strug 
gle  of  but  a  moment.  He  bent  down,  and  kissed  his 
father's  forehead,  and  uttered  in  a  firm  and  unfaltering 
voice,  4t  Dear  father,  think  only  of  yourself.  I  promise 
all."  The  father  convulsively  grasped  his  hand,  looked 
eagerly,  and  intently  in  his  face,  and  said  in  a  low  and 
expiring  voice,  "  Now,  Lord,  lettest  Thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace" 

My  reader  has  been  over  the  dying  bed  of  a  father, 
departing  from  the  midst  of  his  family.  I  leave  it  to 
his  thoughts  to  supply  what  followed.  If  the  holy  an 
gels  are  affected  with  aught  that  belongs  to  mortality, 
it  is  with  a  scene  like  this.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that 
no  sobbing,  no  tears,  no  holding  to  this  earthly  prop 
retained  his  spirit  in  its  flight.  After  the  sad  example  of 
all  before  him,  he.  heaved  his  last  sigh.  The  bosom, 
which  still  preserved  the  semblance  of  what  had  been 
the  seat  of  passion  and  sorrow,  sunk  to  the  stillness  of 
other  inanimate  matter. 


50  GEORGE  MASON, 


CHAPTER  IV. 

He  clothes  the  lily — notes  a  sparrow's  fall, 
And  looks,  intent,  on  man,  his  handy  work. 

A  WOMAN,  accustomed  to  those  duties  in  the  settle 
ment,  with  the  aid  of  two  or  three  slaves,  robed  and 
prepared  the  body  for  its  last  sleep.  Nor,  while  these 
painful  duties  were  performing,  were  they  interrupted 
by  the  cries  and  shrieks,  to  which,  on  such  occasions, 
they  were  accustomed.  These  mourners  remembered 
the  promise,  so  recently  given,  and  they  walked  back 
wards  and  forwards  in  the  paleness  of  death  ;  but  there 
were  no  words,  no  audible  lamentings.  The  children 
clun.u;  to  their  mother  with  an  expression  of  terror  and 
awe,  but  were  not  heard  to  cry.  Silent  respect  and 
sympathy  were  on  the  countenances  of  the  neighbours. 
The  passing  slaves  stopped,  took  off  their  hats,  and 
gazed  respectfully  for  a  moment  on  the  face  of  the 
dead,  and  passed  on.  Slander  had  been  busy  with  the 
name  of  the  deceased,  while  living;  but  the  claims  of 
truth  and  justice  are  every  where  felt  to  a  certain  de 
gree.  The  manner  of  these  people  told  more  elo 
quently  than  any  words,  they  could  have  used,  what 
had  been  their  real  thoughts  of  him,  while  living.  Of 
the  case  of  the  mourners  we  need  say  nothing.  The 
Author  of  nature  called  them  to  endure  it.  My  reader 
knows,  as  1  know,  that  this  is  no  distress  of  fiction  ;  but 
that  we  have  each  in  our  turn  to  be  actors  in  the  same 
scene.  There  is  as  much  truth  as  poetry  in  the  figure 
which  calls  this  earth  "  a  vale  of  tears." 

I  may  remark  in  passing,  that  it  is  the  character  of 
people,  such  as  those  among  whom  Mr.  Mason  de 
ceased,  to  be  deeply  moved  with  such  scenes  of  distress, 
as  these.  Whatever  appeals  directly  to  their  senses 
powerfully  affects  them.  They  forgot  their  envy  and 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  51 

slander  of  the  living,  and  were  saying  in  an  under  tone 
among  themselves,  what  a  wise  and  learned  man  he 
had  been,  and  how  they  pitied  his  poor  and  helpless 
family.  They  were  considerate  and  unequivocal  in  the 
offer  of  the  aid  of  servants,  provisions,  and  ail  the  little 
decencies,  and  mournful  preparations  for  such  a  funeral 
as  the  customs  of  that  region  prescribed.  There  was 
no  white  person  at  that  time  within  thirty  miles,  who 
was  accustomed  to  perform  the  usual  religious  duties 
on  that  occasion.  This  circumstance  was  stated  to 
Mrs.  Mason.  It  aroused  her  feelings  from  the  stupe 
faction  of  her  distress  to  think  that  the  remains  of  her 
dear  husband,  who  had  so  many  hundred  times  uttered 
the  voice  of  prayer  over  the  lifeless  bodies  of  others, 
should  be  carried  to  their  long  home  without  prayer. 
Pompey,  a  converted  methodist  slave  of  Mr.  Garvin, 
was  in  the  habit  of  preaching  to  the  negroes,  and  of 
praying  at  their  funerals.  Mrs.  Mason  very  properly 
preferred,  that  he  should  perform  the  funeral  solemni 
ties  of  her  husband,  rather  than  to  have  none  on  the 
occasion.  Through  a  pardonable  remain  of  former  pas 
sions,  and  the  feelings  which  had  been  nurtured  in 
another  country  and  another  order  of  things.  -  Mrs. 
Mason  chose  that  the  body  of  her  deceased  husband 
should  be  placed  in  the  coffin,  robed  in  the  gown  and 
bands,  the  insignia  of  his  former  office  and  standing. 

I  should  be  glad  to  give  my  youthful  reader  as  dis 
tinct  an  image,  as  I  have  myself  of  this  rustic  funeral  in 
the  Mississippi  forest.  I  see  the  two  solitary  cabins 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  corn,  the  smaller  cabin  over 
topped  by  the  height  of  the  surrounding  corn.  I  see 
the  high  and  zig-zag  fence  ten  rails  high,  that  surrounds 
the  field,  and  the  hewn  puncheon  steps  in  the  form  of 
crosses,  by  which  the  people  crossed  over  the  fence  into 
the  enclosure  ;  the  smooth  and  beaten  foot-path  amidst 
the  weeds,  that  leads  through  the  corn-field  to  the  cab 
ins.  I  see  the  dead  trees  throwing  aloft  their  naked 
stems  from  amidst  the  corn.  I  mark  the  square  and 


52  GEORGE  MASON, 

compact  enclosure  of  the  deep  green  forest,  which  lim 
its  the  prospect  to  the  summits  of  the  corn-stalks,  the 
forest,  and  the  sky.  A  path  is  cut  through  the  corn  a 
few  feet  wide  to  a  huge  sycamore  left  in  its  full  ver 
dure  in  one  corner  of  the  field,  where  Mr.  Mason  used 
to  repose  with  George,  when  he  was  weary,  and  where 
he  had  expressed  a  wish,  during  his  sickness,  that  he 
might  be  buried.  Under  that  tree  is  the  open  grave. 
Before  the  door  of  the  cabin,  and  shaded  by  the  west 
ern  slope  of  the  sun  behind  it,  is  the  unpainted  coffin, 
wanting  the  covering  plank.  In  it  is  the  lifeless  form 
of  the  pastor,  the  cheek  blanched  to  the  color  of  the 
baiuls  about  the  neck,  and  contrasting  so  strongly  with 
the  full  and  flowing  black  silk  robe,  in  which,  in  the  far 
country  of  his  birth,  he  had  been  accustomed  to  go  up 
to  the  house  of  the  Lord.  I  see  the  white  mothers, 
their  children,  and  a  considerable  number  of  blacks, 
who  had  been  permitted  to  attend  the  funeral  in  consid 
eration  of  the  service,  which  was  to  be  performed  by 
one  of  their  number.  I  see  the  tall  and  swarthy  plant 
ers  with  the  sternness  and  authority  of  the  rude- despot 
ism,  which  they  exercise  over  their  slaves,  and  their 
conscious  feeling  of  their  standing  and  importance,  im 
pressed  upon  their  countenances.  I  see  the  pale  and 
subdued  faces  of  the  little  group  of  mourners,  struggling 
hard  with  nature  against  lamentations  and  tears.  They 
could  not  have,  and  they  needed  not,  the  expensive  and 
sable  trappings,  which  fashion  has  required  for  the  show 
of  grief.  Their  faded  weeds,  and  their  mended  dresses 
were  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  utter  despondency  in 
their  countenances,  and  their  forlorn  and  desolate  pros 
pects. 

The  assembled  group  was  summoned  to  prayer. 
The  black,  who  officiated,  by  the  contributions  of  his 
fellow-servants  of  the  whole  settlement,  was  dressed  in 
a  garb  as  near  like  that  of  the  methodist  ministers,  who 
were  in  habit  of  preaching  in  the  settlement,  as  the  case 
would  admit.  The  position  was  to  him  one  of  novelty 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  53 

and  of  awe.  His  honest  and  simple  heart  was  affected 
at  once  with  the  extreme  distress  of  the  mourners  and 
the  trying  position,  in  which  he  was  placed.  He  began 
at  first  in  awkward  and  unsuccessful  attempts  to  imitate 
the  language  and  manner  of  educated  ministers.  He 
soon  felt  the  hopelessness  of  the  effort ;  and  poured  out 
the  earnest,  simple,  and  spontaneous  effusions  of  real 
prayer  in  the  tones  of  the  heart,  and  in  language  not  less 
impressive  from  being  uttered  in  the  dialect  of  a  negro. 
He  dissolved  into  tears  from  his  own  earnestness,  and 
while  the  honest  and  sable  faces  of  his  fellow-servants 
were  bathed  in  tears,  the  contagion  of  sympathy  ex 
tended  through  the  audience,  producing  a  general  burst 
of  grief.  I  should  despair  of  being  able  at  all  to  catch 
the  living  peculiarities  and  dialect  of  the  discourse,  or 
exhortation,  which  followed.  Nevertheless,  I  shall  at 
tempt  an  outline  of  the  beginning,  which  may  fairly 
serve  as  a  sample  of  the  rest. 

"  White  Massas  and  people,  please  to  hark,  and  hear 
the  poor  words  of  Pompey.  Great  God  let  white  men 
bring  poor  Pompey  over  the  sea,  and  make  him  work 
hard  in  field.  Great  God  good,  when  he  seem  hard 
with  us.  He  send  good  men  to  turn  Pompey's  heart, 
and  make  him  Christian.  Strange  things  God  work. 
Here  Massa  Mason,  great  Yankee  preacher,  know  all 
tongues,  read  all  books,  wear  the  grand  gown,  you  see 
there  in  coffin,  preach  in  big  meetin.  He  come  way 
off  here  to  Massaseepe  to  die,  die  in  the  woods.  No 
body  pray  over  him,  but  poor  Pompey.  Well.  Me 
think  all  one  thing  fore  God.  Me  feel  here,  when  me 
die,  me  go  to  heaven.  God  no  turn  me  out,  cause  me 
no  got  book-learning.  Massa  Mason  he  die,  he  go  to 
heaven.  Oh!  Lord  God,  touch  Pompey's  lips,,  that 
he  speak  a  word  in  season  to  poor  Missis,  and  the  dear 
children.  Oh  !  Missis  !  you  see  heaven,  you  no  want 
him  back.  No  sin,  no  labor,  no  tears." 

And  the  poor,  earnest  slave  proceeded  to  pour  forth 
from  the  fulness  of  his  heart,  all  the  motives  of  resig- 


54  GEORGE  MASON, 

nation,  patience,  and  hope,  that  his  retentive  memory, 
and  the  excitement  of  his  feelings,  enabled  him  to  utter. 
For  me,  I  have  often  heard  the  cold  and  studied  words 
of  doctors,  learned,  and  famed  in  the  schools,  with  less 
effect,  than  the  heart-felt  preaching  of  this  devout 
slave.  The  audience  melted  anew  into  tears,  as  he 
proceeded  ;  and  those  of  Mrs.  Mason,  and  those  of  her 
children,  who  were  able  to  comprehend,  were  tears  of 
resignation  and  religion.  "When  the  service  was  fin 
ished,  he  recited,  in  his  peculiar  accent  and  dialect, 
those  beautiful  verses  of  a  methodist  funeral  hymn, 
which  he  had  so  often  heard  repeated,  as  to  have  com- 
mittted  to  memory. 

"  Those  eyes  he  so  seldom  could  close, 
By  sorrow  forbidden  to  sleep,"  &c. 

I  have  never  heard  voices  so  sweet,  as  of  some  fe 
male  blacks  on  such  occasions.  The  thrilling  tones 
will  remain  on  my  memory,  while  1  live.  To  me,  too, 
there  is  something  affecting  in  that  sacred  music  in 
which  the  whole  congregation  join.  Every  one  joined 
in  this  hymn,  and  it  seemed  to  be  a  general  wail  sent 
up  from  the  woods  to  heaven. 

When  the  hymn  was  closed,  the  man,  who  officiated 
as  master  of  ceremonies  on  the  occasion,  proposed 
to  those,  who  wished  to  take  a  last  look  at  the  deceased, 
to  come  forward.  It  is  a  common  custom  in  that  coun 
try  for  widows,  who  affect  refinement,  to  shut  themselves 
in  retirement  from  the  funeral  solemnities  of  their  hus 
bands.  Such  was  not  the  way,  in  which  Mrs.  Mason 
expressed  her  grief,  and  her  affection.  She  walked 
firmly  to  the  coffin,  and  all  her  children  came  round  her. 
They  looked  long,  and  without  tears,  at  the  pale  and 
care-worn  countenance,  and  the  deep  and  sunken  eye 
of  the  husband,  the  father,  the  being  who  had  been, 
next  to  God,  their  stay  and  their  dependence.  Well 
might  the  widow  remember  the  day,  when  in  the  prime 
of  youth,  love,  and  hope,  in  the  same  robes  of  office,  in 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  55 

which  his  body  was  now  lying  before  her  in  the  coffin, 
he  had  led  her  to  the  church,  the  sabbath  after  their 
marriage.  Oh  !  there  are  views  and  reflections  of  a 
moment,  that  fill  remembrances  of  years.  The  look  of 
unutterable  thoughts  and  feelings  was  over.  The  un- 
painted  cover  was  applied  to  the  coffin,  and  the  nails 
were  driven.  Twelve  of  the  most  substantial  planters 
were  the  bearers.  The  mourners  walked  directly  be 
hind  the  coffin,  and  the  whole  mass  followed  through 
the  corn-field  in  a  crowd.  The  coffin  was  let  down  in 
to  the  grave,  and  the  fresh  and  black  soil  was  heaped 
upon  it.  According  to  the  affecting  and  universal  cus 
tom  of  that  region,  each  one  present  gathered  up  a 
handful  of  earth,  and  threw  into  the  grave.  A  couple 
of  stakes  were  planted,  the  one  at  the  head,  and  the 
other  at  the  foot  of  the  grave ;  and  the  neighbours  dis 
persed  to  their  several  abodes,  and  the  widow  and  her 
children  returned  to  their  desolate  dwelling. 

I  feel  a  chill  pass  over  me,  as  in  imagination  I  look 
in  this  evening  upon  this  desolate  family.  I  mark  the 
empty  chair,  where  the  deceased  had  been  used  to  sit. 
I  observe  his  vacant  place  at  the  rustic  table,  and  the 
supper  removed  untouched.  I  remark  the  deeper  sense 
of  desertion  and  loneliness,  when  Mrs.  Mason  took  down 
the  family  Bible  at  the  accustomed  hour  of  evening 
prayer,  and  gave  it  to  George.  The  noble  boy  remem 
bered,  that  his  dying  father  had  delegated  to  him  the 
responsible  and  patriarchal  authority  of  head  of  the 
family,  and  had  warned  him  against  giving  way  to  sorrow 
and  tears.  He  opened  the  Bible  at  that  sublime  and 
pathetic  chapter  of  Job,  which  begins,  "Man,  that  is 
born  of  a  woman,  is  but  of  few  days,  and  full  of  trou 
ble  :  "  a  strain  of  poetry  so  deep,  pathetic,  and  sublime, 
that  it  reads  in  my  ear,  like  a  funeral  hymn,  with  the 
accompaniments  of  an  organ.  He  had  reduced  to 
writing  his  father's  evening  prayer,  as  he  remembered  it, 
and  in  a  firm  and  distinct  voice  he  read  it.  He  sung 
sweetly,  and  had  long  been  accustomed  to  raise  the 


GEORGE  MASON 


evening  hymn.  It  was  an  effort  beyond  his  firmness, 
and  instead  of  the  customary  concert  of  v?oices,  was 
met  by  a  general  burst  of  grief.  I  need  not  describe, 
how  dark  this  night  looked  to  t^e  children,  as  it  settled 
on  the  forests,  nor  describe  the  thrill,  with  which  the 
long  and  dismal  howl  of  the  wolves,  echoing  through 
the  woods,  came  upon  tlieir  ears  ;  nor  need  I  mention 
the  convulsive  shudder,  with  which  her  orphan  daughter 
lay  down  with  her  upon  the  matlrass,  on  which  her 
father  had  died. 

The    days    that  followed,  seemed   to  them  of  im 
measurable  length.     George   and   William  went  to  the 
field,  as  they  had  been  wont,  when  their  father  was  alive 
—  for  on  the  first  morning  after  the  funeral,  it  was  agreed, 
that  to  proceed  to  their  duties,  as  usual,  was  the  prop 
er  construction    of   his    dying    charge.      Resolution    in 
a   well-principled   rnind  can  do  much.     But  the  heart 
knoweth,  and   will   feel,  its  own   bitterness.     The  boys 
dreamed  at  their  task,  or  thought  too  intently  of  some 
thing    beside   it,  to   make  much  progress.     Days,  how 
ever    prolonged    by  sorrow,  came  and  went  to  them,  as 
though   they  had    been    in  joy.      For   a   few   days   the 
neighbours   looked  in  upon  them,  with  countenances  of 
sympathy  for  their  distress  ;  but  in  a  fortnight  all  this  was 
to  them,  as  though   it  had   not  been,  and  the  bereaved 
family  was  regarded  with  as  much  indifference,  as  the 
dead   trees   about  the  dwelling.     After  that,  had  it  not 
been   for   the  connexion   of  some    of  their  own   selfish 
feelings   with   their   case,  whether  they  were  naked   or 
clothed,  whether  they  were  hungry  or  fed  full,  whether 
their    hearts    ached   or  were   glad,    would    have  been 
known   only  to  themselves  and  God. 

It  is  not  with  the  idle  desire  to  sadden  my  youthful 
reader  with  the  relation  of  the  details  of  a  funeral,  that 
I  have  recorded  the  above  minute  delineation  of  this. 
We  all  know,  that  man  is  born  to  die,  and  that  these 
things  belong  to  our  mortal  condition.  WTe  know,  too, 
that  sympathy  with  distress  is  one  of  the  purest  and  best 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  57 

feelings  of  our  nature.  It  is  never  excited,  without 
rendering  the  subject  of  it  better.  I  have  wished  to  in 
spire  sympathy  in  the  young  bosom  of  my  reader.  I 
have  wished,  above  all,  to  furnish,  by  example,  lessons  of 
duty,  exertion,  firmness,  and  industry  under  the  utmost 
pressure  of  bereavement  and  poverty. 

I  do  not  purpose  very  particularly  to  narrate  the  sub 
sequent  fortunes  of  this  bereaved  family,  any  farther, 
than  as  their  deportment  is  calculated  to  furnish  these 
lessons.  I  have  more  particularly  in  view  to  develope 
the  character  and  conduct  of  George.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  say,  that  for  the  present  the  family  were 
amply  supplied  with  corn,  and  the  common  vegetables 
from  their  field,  which  nature  had  been  beneficently 
ripening  for  them,  during  their  utmost  distress.  They 
might,  therefore,  behold  the  approach  of  winter  without 
any  immediate  apprehension  of  starving.  But  a  family 
may  suffer,  and  suffer  acutely,  from  poverty,  after  the 
fear  of  the  immediate  want  of  food  is  removed.  The 
clothes,  which  they  had  brought  with  them  from  New- 
England,  were  wearing  out,  and  there  were  no  means  re 
maining  to  them  to  replace  them.  The  deer-skin  dress, 
so  common  in  the  country,  was  still  more  expensive  to 
purchase,  than  the  cheap  domestic  articles  of  the  coun 
try.  Either  were  alike  beyond  her  means,  which,  as 
regarded  money,  by  the  sickness  and  death  of  Mr. 
Mason  were  entirely  exhausted.  There  are  many  re 
sorts  and  expedients  in  such  cases  to  which  backwoods 
people  are  accustomed,  which  this  family  had  yet  to 
learn.  The  decent  pride  of  the  mother  had  hitherto 
kept  the  clothes  of  her  children  whole,  by  patching  and 
mending.  But  this  could  not  be  possible  much  longer. 
It- is  the  real  pinching  and  misery  of  poverty,  for  such 
a  family,  to  see  one  another  becoming  ragged,  and  an 
object  of  scorn  to  the  rude  and  undistinguishing  passen 
gers.  There  are  severe  frosts  even  in  that  climate. 
Nor  could  five  children  be  always  confined  to  the  narrow 
precincts  of  a  log-house.  In  the  bright  and  delightful 


68  GEORGE  MASON, 

frosty  mornings  of  the  first  of  winter,  it  is  natural,  that 
children  should  feel  the  cheering  elasticity  and  invig 
orating  influence  of  the  frosts,  as  other  animals.  They 
soon,  like  the  domestic  fowls  and  animals,  bec«pde  ac 
customed  to  running  abroad  unshod.  But,  when  th^ 
returned  from  their  excursions,  to  hover  round  the  fire, 
their  feet,  red,  inflamed,  and  smarting  to  agony,  with 
the  reaction  of  the  fire,  the  tender  mother  felt  the  in 
flammation  as  keenly  as  though  it  had  been  on  her  own 
heart.  She  saw,  also,  with  humiliation  and  bitterness, 
rather  than  the  natural  maternal  pride,  the  ripening 
beauty  of  her  daughter,  so  strongly  opposed  to  the  for- 
lornness  of  her  dress  and  condition.  Her  own  troubles 
of  the  same  sort  were  as  nothing  in  the  comparison. 

The  mode,  in  which  herself  and  daughter  obtained 
a  partial  and  present  relief  from  these  difficulties,  was 
scarcely  less  embarrassing  than  the  difficulties  them 
selves.  Their  utter  destitution  and  inability  to  remedy 
it,  were  matter  of  common  conversation  among  their 
neighbours.  To  some  it  was  a  theme  of  mere  indiffer 
ent  conversation.  To  some,  who  regarded  their  im 
agined  pretensions  to  something  above  them,  it  was  a 
subject  of  envious  gratification.  From  Hercules  Pin- 
dall  and  Jethro  Garvin  it  effectually  excluded  the  view 
of  Eliza  Mason.  She  was  invited  to  their  junkets,  their 
holiday  amusements,  and  their  Sabbath  meetings,  by 
their  sisters  to  no  purpose,  and  their  ingenuity  readily 
assigned  the  reason.  The  influence,  which  these  Her 
culean  rustics  possessed  with  their  parents,  induced 
them,  with  no  small  degree  of  parade,  since  they  found 
it  must  be  done,  to  present  the  mother  and  daughter 
each  with  a  new  dress.  The  articles  presented  were 
not  in  many  respects  such,  as  they  would  have  chosen, 
nor  such,  as  befitted  their  condition.  But  necessity, 
such  as  theirs,  they  thought,  ought  not  to  know  the 
laws  of  pride  or  taste.  The  mothers  of  these  young 
men  presented  the  articles,  not  forgetting  their  way  of 
emblazoning  their  own  charity  and  good  feelings  in  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  59 

case,  not  manifesting  much  delicacy,  in  touching 
upon  their  known  poverty,  nor  failing  lo  leave  hroad 
hints,  that  they  expected  that  the  mother  and  daugh 
ter,  t(j0p  clad,  would,  show  themselves  abroad,  and 
qg  sit  there  moping  at  home,  mourning  for  one, 
who  could  never  return  to  them.  Of  Eliza,  they  said, 
it  was  a  pity,  that  she  should  always  be  shut  up  in  the 
cabin,  and  not  learn  any  thing  of  the  pleasures  and  fash 
ions  of  the  world.  They  expected,  that  she  would 
come  and  see  their  daughters  ;  and  particularly  invited 
Mrs.  Mason  to  bring  her  and  George  to  a  party,  and  a 
nut-gathering,  which  was  to  take  place  at  the  house  of 
Mrs.  Pindall  in  a  few  days,  stating,  as  a  particular  ac 
commodation  of  considerate  feeling,  that  out  of  regard 
to  their  case,  as  mourners,  there  was  to  be  no  dancing, 
which  would  otherwise  have  made  a  part  of  the  amuse 
ments  on  the  occasion. 

Mrs.  Mason's  mind  was  placed  in  a  Atate  of  painful 
doubt  and  perplexity,  whether  she  ought,  under  such 
circumstances,  to  accept  the  presents  at  all.  Neces 
sity,  and  scruples  of  conscience,  which  arose  from  fear 
that  pride  would  dictate  the  refusal,  induced  her  to  ac 
cept  the  offered  presents.  She  stated,  however,  and 
that  distinctly,  that  she  should  not  be  understood,  by 
accepting  them,  to  lay  herself  or  her  daughter  under 
any  obligations  of  any  kind,  but  those  of  gratitude,  and 
that  she  thought  her  peculiar  troubles  were  too  recent 
to  allow  her  properly  to  go  to  such  a  place,  on  such  an 
occasion,  but  that  she  would  take  the  matter  into  con 
sideration,  and  give  them  such  an  answer,  as  should  be 
thought  right,  after  such  deliberation.  I  hope  my  read 
er  will  never  be  placed  in  a  situation  iike  that  of  this 
mother,  needing  such  assistance,  and  yet  dreading  the 
pride,  that  would  refuse  it,  and  the  obligations  to  be 
incurred  by  receiving  it  ;  recoiling  from  any  intimate 
connexion  with  the  donors,  yet,  out  of  tender  regard  to 
those  dearer  than  life,  dreading  to  provoke  their  wrath, 
and  the  weight  of  their  power,  by  showing  a  manifest 


60  GEORGE  MASON, 

purpose  to  avoid  them.  Such  was  precisely  the  rela 
tion  of  Mrs.  Mason  with  these  neighbours,  whose  good 
will,  she  was  aware,  was  absolutely  essential  to  her. 

While  the  family  deliberated  upon  the  impropriety  of 
going  to  a  party,  in  such  a  place,  in  six  weeks  from  the 
time  of  the  decease  of  its  head,  the  other  family,  an 
ticipating  the  view,  which  they  would  take  of  the  affair, 
changed  the  name  of  it  to  a  "  preaching,"  against  which 
they  foresaw  no  objection  could  lie.  This  settled  the 
case,  and  she  became  convinced,  that  duty  and  interest 
called  on  her  to  accept  the  invitation.  So,  arming  her 
daughter  with  all  the  preparatory  cautions,  which  she 
could  devise,  how  to  conduct  with  the  young  people, 
when  they  should  be  by  themselves,  she  sent  a  note, 
signifying,  that  she  would  accept  their  invitation,  and 
spend  the  clay  and  the  evening  with  them,  as  requested. 

When  the  important  day  arrived,  George  was  left  to 
keep  house  with  the  care  of  the  younger  children,  while 
the  mother  and  daughter,  in  their  new  dresses,  with 
hearts  aching  with  apprehension,  were  helped  into  the 
carriage,  which  Mr.  Pindall  had  sent,  in  great  form,  to 
convey  them  to  the  feast.  When  they  arrived,  they 
found  the  table  spread  in  a  very  large  hall,  the  walls  of 
which  were  of  fresh  hewn  logs,  decked  everywhere 
with  evergreens,  and  the  last  flowers  of  the  season. 
This  hall  answered  alternately  the  purpose  of  a  ball 
room  and  a  church.  The  company  was  a  selection  of 
all  the  considerable  planters  for  ten  miles  round.  The 
number  was  twenty,  with  twice  as  many  sons  and 
daughters.  The  latter,  if  not  generally  beautiful  in 
person,  were  tall,  graceful,  and  powerful  in  form.  Six 
yellow  women,  and  as  many  yellow  men,  waited  at  ta 
ble  in  liveries.  The  planters  and  their  wives  were 
dressed  in  their  best,  and  their  daughters,  as  flaunty, 
as  red,  coquelico,  and  crimson  could  make  them. 

The  preaching,  as  we  have  remarked,  was  the  pre 
tence  for  the  dinner,  and  answered,  besides,  the  pur 
pose  of  satisfying  a  multitude  of  the  settlement,  that 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  61 

conld  not  be  invited  to  the  dinner.  To  have  received 
from  such  rich  .people  an  invitation  to  come  there,  and 
feast  upon  the  good  word,  sent  them  away  satisfied. 
The  preaching  was  of  course  the  first  in  order.  The 
minister  was  ignorant  and  heavy,  and  withal  smelt  the 
flavor  oft'  e  preparing  dinner  so  keenly,  that  he  hurried 
through  his  reluctant  services  as  fast  as  possible,  cur 
tailing  every  part  of  them,  but  the  burst  of  noise  and 
passion  at  the  close.  The  good  man  finished  the  short 
campaign,  as  Bonaparte  said,  "  with  a  clap  of  thun 
der."  The  lesser  people, 'who  might  not  abide  the 
dinner,  retired,  apparently  well  satisfied  with  their  pen 
ny-worth  ;  and  the  preacher  made  his  way  to  the  din 
ner-table,  as  glad  to  leave  the  services  as  the  people 
were  to  hear  him  say,  Amen. 

The  important  matter  of  arranging  the  parties  at  ta 
ble  was  next  to  be  settled.  It  might  have  been  a  point 
of  as  much  difficulty  and  delay  as  occurred  between 
the  duke  and  Don  Quixote,  on  a  similar  occasion,  had 
it  not  been  announced,  that  this  was  the  freedom  din 
ner  of  young  Mr  Hercules  Pindall,  and  that  he  had  of 
course  the  privilege  of  assigning  places  at  the  table  as 
he  pleased.  The  young  man,  dressed  in  his  freedom 
suit  of  rich  blue  broadcloth,  and  a  splendid  scarlet  sash 
about  his  waist,  and  with  all  his  "  blushing  honors  thick 
upon  him,"  proceeded  immediately  to  discharge  his 
delegated  duties.  I  am  only  interested  to  mention, 
that  Mrs.  Mason  was  seated  high  in  honor,  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  head  of  the  table,  and  her  daughter  oppo 
site  her  on  the  left.  Mr.  Hercules  look  the  head  him 
self,  and  his  mother  was  at  the  foot.  These  important 
preliminaries  settled,  the  remainder  of  the  company, 
old  and  young,  arranged  themselves  at  their  choice. 
The  table  groaned  with  turkeys,  venison,  beef,  pork, 
p  es,  vegetables,  and  all  the  foreign  luxuries,  which  the 
steam-boats  brought  from  New-Orleans  ;  in  short  every 
thinz,  that  the  country  could  furnish,  or  the  luxury  of 
cooking  in  that  region  prepare.  The  clatter  of  knives 
6 


62  GEORGE  MASON, 

and  forks  followed,  and  the  gay  and  good-natured  con 
versation,  inspired  by  the  sight  of  beauty,  and  the  pal 
pable  relish  of  good  cheer,  still  further  aided  by  the  ar 
tificial  excitement  of  wine  and  whiskey-punch,  produced 
that  Babel  mixture  of  sounds,  that  every  one,  who  has 
been  at  such  a  place,  so  well  remembers.  Nor  let 
those,  who  have  had  the  honor  to  be  present  at  great 
and  given  dinners,  among  the  men  of  power,  place,  and 
opulence  in  cities,  vainly  think,  that  elegance,  and  wis 
dom,  arid  wit,  will  die  with  them.  There  was  as  much 
smirking  and  showing  off  here  as  there.  There  were 
as  many  attempts  at  wit,  and  a  much  greater  amount  of 
laughter.  There  was  as  much  concealed  passion  of 
every  sort.  In  short,  there  was  at  this  table  a  sample 
of  every  thing  that  has  been  seen  in  pavilions  and  pal 
aces,  on  a  like  occasion.  The  grand  git  of  the  merri 
ment,  however,  was  the  happy  era  of  the  arrival  at 
majority  of  Mr.  Hercules,  and  a  great  many  broad  allu 
sions  to  a  supposed  union,  that  was  contemplated  be 
tween  the  tall  and  powerful  young  heir,  and  the  sweet 
and  blushing  child,  who  sat  in  her  weeds  on  his  left. 
Her  exquisite  beauty  drew  from  these  hearty  fellows 
the  strong  terms  of  encomium,  in  which  backwoodsmen 
know  so  well  how  to  express  themselves.  Hercules, 
too,  elevated  by  his  new  dignity,  and  warmed  by  the 
occasion  and  a  glass  of  wine  above  fear,  made  love  to 
the  shrinking  Eliza  in  direct  and  strong  terms,  and  in  a 
Style  and  language  so  new  and  curious,  that,  child  and 
inexperienced  as  she  was,  in  another  situation,  and  un 
der  other  circumstances,  it  could  not  but  have  drawn 
smiles  from  a  girl,  now  turned  of  thirteen,  with  fine  nat 
ural  powers,  and  an  arch  eye.  As  it  was,  the  whole 
scene  inspired  her  with  terror  and  aversion.  She  had 
recently  learned,  that  the  father  of  Hercules  had  a  claim 
to  the  land  on  which  her  mother  lived,  supposed  to  be 
better,  than  that  which  her  deceased  father  had  pur 
chased.  In  many  ways  she  felt,  that  her  mother  was 
in  the  power  of  this  man,  so  courted,  and  dreaded 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  68 

through  the  settlement.  Her  charge  from  her  mother 
had  been  to  steer  in  the  midst  between  encouraging, 
and  affronting  this  young  swain.  Amidst  the  uproar 
and  clatter  her  mother  could  only  partially  hear  what 
he  said  to  her,  and  divine  the  purport  and  effect,  by 
discovering  the  alternate  changes  from  the  rose  to  the 
lily,  in  the  countenance  of  her  dear  orphan. 

The  dinner  terminated,  as  such  affairs  in  such  places 
usually  do,  except  that  at  the  earnest  remonstrances  of 
the  host,  there  was  little  intoxication,  and  the  jolly  plant 
ers, arose  from  table,  only  "  well  to  live,"  as  the  phrase 
was  among  them.  They  dispersed,  followed  by  their 
dogs  and  negroes,  to  shoot  at  a  mark,  and  decide  the 
comparative  merits  of  the  horses,  that  were  entered 
for  the  next  horse-race.  The  married  ladies  retired  to 
another  room,  to  commence  a  quilting.  The  young 
gentlemen  and  ladies  paired  themselves  and  marched  off 
into  the  woods,  to  witness  the  cutting  of  a  bee-tree,  and 
to  gather  grapes  and  peccans.  Hercules  would  have 
insisted  upon  leading  off  Eliza,  but  with  a  shrewdness 
and  a  knowledge  of  things,  which  might  .not  have  been 
expected  from  her  age,  she  clung  firmly  to  the  arm  of 
his  sister,  Letitia,  so  far  a  blue-blocking,  as.  to  be  able 
to  read  a  novel  with  very  little  spelling.  Seeing  him 
self  anticipated  in  his  purpose,  the  young  gentleman 
had  nothing  to  do,  but  to  saunter,  somewhat  moodily, 
by  the  side  of  his  sister. 

It  was  a  gay  spectacle,  to  see  so  many  girls  in  their 
gaudy  dresses,  and  with  their  streamers  fluttering  in  the 
breeze,  as  they  spread  in  groups  among  the  pawpaw 
groves,  under  natural  bowers,  covered  with  the  rich 
clusters  of  the  blue  grape.  It  was  the  sweet  autumnal 
season  of  th<;  south  country,  in  which  the  air  is  bland, 
the  temperature  delicious.  The  leaves  were  plashing 
in  the  little  pools  ;  and  those  that  remained  were  red, 
yellow,  crimson,  or  sear,  and  in  every  rich  and  mellow 
tint,  from  green  to  brown.  There  was  chatting,  and 
laughing,  and  reckless  gaiety  in  abundance  ;  and  even 


64  GEORGE  MASON, 

Eliza  caught  the  .gaiety  of  the  rest,  and  the  inspiration 
of  the  scene,  and  would  have  been  cheerful,  but  for  her 
terror  of  the  tall  young  man,  whose  eye  was  so  con 
stantly  fixed  on  hers,  with  an  expression,  before  which 
hers  quailed.  For  the  rest,  they  were  as  merry,  and 
as  witty,  and  made  love  in  their  way  as  heartily,  and  to 
as  much  purpose,  and  all  their  thoughts,  hopes,  de 
sires,  and  affections  were  as  completely  filled  with  the 
scene,  and,  probably,  far  more  so,  than  are  the  gay 
parties  at  Ranelagh. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  point  proposed,  Miss  Leti- 
tia  informed  her  young  friend,  as  Hercules  left  them  for 
a  moment,  that  his  inventive  brain,  inspired,  as  she  in 
sinuated,  by  love,  had  devised  the  striking  spectacle, 
that  they  were  now  to  witness.  T-hey  had  come  to  a 
grand,  perpendicular,  lime-stone  bluff,  four  hundred 
feet  high,  down  which  precipitated  a  white  sheet  of 
water  from  a  spring  on  the  summit,  looking  like  a  wide 
ribband  of  silver-lustre,  suspended  in  the  air,  and  fall 
ing  with  a  pleasant  murmur  into  a  basin  at  the  foot  of 
the  bluff.  Thence  it  wound  away  in  a  still  stream, 
which  crept  slowly  through  the  bottom.  On  the  banks 
of  this  stream  was  a  wide  turf,  covered  with  the  most 
splendid  mosses,  short,  silken,  and  seeming;  like  buff- 
green  velvet.  H  was  shaded  with  prodigious  syca 
mores  and  ppccans,  alive  with  wild  pigeons  and  par 
roquets,  feeding  on  the  grapes  and  the  nuts.  At  the 
basin,  refreshments,  cakes,  pies,  and  claret  wine,  were 
prepared,  and  two  or  three  blacks,  dressed  in  fantastic 
finery,  played  the  fiddle  and  the  hurdy-gurdy. 

Beside  three  trees  at  a  proper  distance  stood  three 
negroes,  each  with  an  axe  in  his  hand.  The.young 
gentlemen  and  ladies  were  all  assembled  around  the 
fountain.  The  negroes  were  scraping  their  fiddles 
and  hurdy-gurdies  in  great  glfe.  Suddenly  they 
came  to  a  dead  pause,  and  Miss  Letiiia  whispered 
Eliza,  that  she  must  wave  a  handkerchief,  and  that 
something  grand  would  happen  in  consequence.  She 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  66 

perceived  that  all  eyes  were  turned  upon  her,  in  mute 
expectation.  Merely  to  get  rid  of  the  awkwardness  of 
this  pause,  she  held  up  a  handkerchief,  which  she 
had  received,  as  part  of  her  recent  present,  and  waved 
it.  At  the  signal  the  three  blacks  struck  two  or  three 
quick  blows  upon  the  trees,  by  which  they  stood,  and 
three  prodigious  trees,  the  very  giants  of  the  forest, 
bent  in  opposite  directions,  giving  two  or  three  sharp 
cracks,  and  then  thundered  down  with  a  crash,  that 
was  terrific,  sweeping  whole  trees  and  limbs. and  every 
thing  that  opposed,  from  their  course,  and  striking  the 
earth  with  a  force  that  made  the  very  earth  tremble 
under  their  feet  and  echoed  far  through  the  woods. 
The  pigeons  and  parroquets  fluttered  in  clouds  from 
the  scene.  The  dogs  barked.  The  young  men  huz 
zaed,  and  there  was  a  general  and  Jong  waving  of 
handkerchiefs  from  the  young  ladies  to  correspond. 

One  of  these  prodigious  fallen  trees  was  a  bee- 
tree,  in  which  was  a  large  and  rich  swarm  that  had 
been  discovered  and  reserved  for  the  occasion  ;  and  this 
tree,  and  the  other  two  were  prepared  for  the  festival, 
by  bring  cut  so  nearly  off  as  only  to  require  a  blow 
or  two  to  fell  them.  One  of  the  other  trees  was  a  pec- 
can,  covered  with  nuts,  and  the  other  a  sycamore, 
whose  summit  was  crowned  with  clusters  of  the  blue 
grape.  It  was  a  new  source  of  amusement  to  gather 
nuts  and  grapes,  which,  but  a  few  moments  before,  had 
been  a  hundred  feet  in  the  air.  There  was,  of  course, 
a  new  theatre  for  wit  and  mutual  gymnastic  efforts,  on 
the  part  of  the  lads  and  lasses,  and  many  were  the 
feats  of  springing,  reaching,  and  climbing,  on  both  sides, 
and  well,  and  gracefully  did  the  lovers  show  their 
elected  their  love  and  daring,  in  getting  for  them,  at 
any  effort  and  any  risk,  the  clusters,  or  nuts,  for  which 
they  expressed  an  inclination. 

When  the  young  ladies  had  eaten  grapes  and  nuts  to 
their  satisfaction,   and    had  filled    their   handkerchiefs, 
and  given  them   to   their  attending  servants,  ,to  carry 
6* 


GEORGE  MASON 


home,  a  trial  of  the  gallantry  and  devotion  of  their 
swains  ensued,  which,  so  far  from  being  semblance, 
and  unreal,  was  one  worthy  of  the  "hardihood  and  dar 
ing  of  a  Sampson.  The  bee-tree,  in  falling,  had  broken 
at  the  point  where  the  swarm  had  formed  their  hive. 
The  little  exasperated  insects  were  whizzing  by  thou 
sands  about  the  ruin  of  their  habitation  and  fortunes,  and 
were  denouncing  vengeance  against  those  who  should 
dare  to  add  misery  to  affliction,  by  plundering  ihera  of 
their  honey.  One  young  man  after  another,  covering 
his  head  with  a  handkerchief,  walked  up  to  the  hollow, 
amidst  the  shouts  and  bravos  of  the  company,  and  with 
as  much  adroitness,  and  as  few  /stings,  as  might  be, 
brought  off  a  fragment  of  the  comb,  and  presented  it 
with  a  suitable  speech  to  the  young  lady  of  his  choice. 

Hercules  Pindail,  to  show  more  devoted  love,  and 
more  chivalrous  daring,  walked  deliberately,  and  with 
uncovered  face,  among  the  thickest  of  the  bees,  and 
stooped  down  and  took  a  full  survey  of  the  comb  in  the 
broken  hollow,  and  reached  in  his  hand,  and  scooped 
out  the  white  and  virgin  circles  of  comb  from  the  very 
centre  of  the  hive,  and  with  his  face  and  hands  swollen, 
and  agonizing  with  fifty  stings,  presented  his  trophy  to 
Eliza.  All  this  was  accompanied  with  a  suitable 
speech,  the  witty  part  of  which  bore  for  burden,  that 
this  external  stinging  had  no  relation,  nor  comparison 
to  certain  smarts  and  agonies,  inflicted  by  her  mischiev 
ous  eyes  in  his  bosom.  There  are  few  female  hearts 
of  thirteen,  I  ween,  that  would  not  have  softened  some 
thing  from  the  rigor,  imposed  by  maternal  counsels,  at 
such  notable  proofs  of  daring  constancy.  Eliza  pleaded, 
that  she  was  too  young  to  love.  Hercules,  in  reply, 
was  ready  to  wait  her  time,  so  that  he  might  hope  at 
the  end  of  his  probation. 

But  I  willingly  pass  over  this  scene.  Hercules  was 
earnest,  rough,  and  direct  to  his  point,  and  used  threats 
withal.  Eliza  was  young,  and  frightened,  and  trem 
bled  at  the  thought  of  committing  the  grounds  and 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  67 

cabin,  that  sheltered  her  poor  brothers  and  her  mother. 
It  was  a  scene  most  trying  to  the  unpractised  child, 
from  which  she  only  escaped  by  lelling  him,  that  even 
if  she  were  of  age  to  love,  it  would  be  no  way  to  in 
spire  it,  to  threaten  ruin  to  her  mother's  family,  and  by 
warning  him,  that  if  he  did  not  desist,  and  let  her  off, 
she  would  call  the  company.  The  party  broke  up, 
partaking  of  the  general  gloom,  created  by  the  vrsible 
ill  humor  of  the  chief  entertainer,  who  was  evidently 
dissatisfied  with  the  progress  of  his  love-making,  his 
prospects,  himself,  and  every  thing.  It  was  late  in  the 
evening,  when  the  carriage  was  ordered  to  carry  Mrs. 
Mason  and  her  daughter  home.  The  narrative  of  the 
incidents  of  the  feast  was  of  course  reserved  for  the  fol 
lowing  day. 

The  first  smile,  which  had  been  seen  in  this  family, 
since  the  death  of  its  head,  was  excited  in  the  listening 
group,  the  next  morning,  as  Eliza  described,  in  her 
way,  the  dinner,  the  nut-gathering,  and  the  gallantry  of 
Hercules,  manifested  by  the  number  of  stings,  and  the 
amount  of  swelling.  From  the  little  which  she  related 
of  what  he  had  said  to  her,  and  the  answers,  which  she 
had  made  to  him,  the  state  of  the  case  was  sufficiently 
obvious  not  only  to  the  keen  discernment  of  the  moth 
er,  but  even  to  the  inexperienced  judgment  of  George. 
They  had  been  for  some  time  aware,  that  their  little 
homestead  was  claimed  by  different  titles,  and  that, 
probably,  that  of  Mr.  Pindall  was  as  valid  as  theirs.  A 
law  suit,  at  least,  was  necessary  to  try  their  compara 
tive  validity,  and  this  would  be  as  ruinous  to  them  as  to 
be  deprived  of  their  home.  The  opulent,  who  are  in 
suspense  about  the  fate  of  their  ships,  after  a  storm,  can 
have  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  bitterness  fff  apprehension, 
with  which  this  family  regarded  the  idea  of  being  turn 
ed  out  of  their  humble  home.  It  was  their  all,  and  not 
the  less  important  to  them,  because  it  would  have  been 
nothing  to  another.  Various  were  the  devices  propos 
ed,  to  sooihe  the  disappointed  vanity  of  the  young  man, 


68  GEORGE  MASOIC, 

and  ward  off  the  vengeance  of  his  father.  Thomas  ven 
tured  to  propose  it  as  his  judgment,  that  Hercules  was 
a  fine,  stout,  young  man,  and  called  by  all  the  people, 
the  "  best "  in  the  settlement  of  his  years,  and  certain 
ly  the  richest.  He  thought  sister  might  tell  him, 
that  she  would  wait  for  him  ;  "  And  you  know,"  he  sig 
nificantly  added.  "  you  can  make  him  wait  as  long  as 
you  will.  Then  you  could  be  sure  of  this,  and  the 
great  farm/and  ride  about  in  the  coach,  and  we  should 
all  be  rich  and  happy."  A  kind  of  musing  contempla 
tion  of  the  matter,  in  the  same  point  of  view,  seemed 
for  a  moment  to  pass  over  the  brow  of  Mrs.  Mason.  A 
paleness,  as  of  death,  and  a  burst  of  tears  from  the 
daughter  showed  the  light  in  which  she  considered  the 
most  distant  prospect  of  getting  rid  of  their  difficulties 
in  that  way.  It  was  settled,  that  they  would  deliberate 
no  further  upon  the  subject  until  future  difficulties  called 
upon  them  to  act. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  69 

CHAPTER  V. 

"  Despise  not  the  poor  because  he  is  poor." 

WHENEVER  the  question  of  the  future  course  of  the 
family  was  in  discussion,  and  whenever  the  investiga 
tion  was  followed  by  gloom  and  despondency,  George 
never  failed  10  p!y  his  fa  h<  r's  motto,  and  to  dwell  upon 
his  last  declaration,  that  God  never  forsakes  them,  who 
do  not  forsake  themselves.  "  They  were  in  health," 
he  said,  "  and  in  a  country  where  sustenance  was  easy 
to  be  procured,  and  if  they  could  only  hit  upon  the 
right  way,  some  one  might  surely  be  devised,  in  which 
they  might  'become  independent  of  Hercules  Pmdall, 
and  every  body,  and  take  care  of  themselves."  The 
grand  burden  of  their  conversations  was  to  search  for 
this  way. 

The  inquirer  after  the  secret  of  perpetual  motion, 
the  chemist  inquiring  after  the  transmuting  secret,  that 
will  turn  lead  to  gold,  the  student  whipping  up  his  pow 
ers  to  put  the  finish- to  an  invention  that  will  bring  him 
fame  and  foitune,  know  but  little  of  the  heart- wearing 
study  of  this  family,  to  start  in  some  track,  by  which 
they  might  obtain  sufficient  money  to  clothe  the  family, 
and  p;iy  the  doctor's  bill  and  the  taxes.  Destitute  as 
they  were,  these  bills  were  presented,  and  payment 
pressed  with  persevering  importunity.  In  discoursing 
every  evening  upon  this  theme,  Madam  Mason,  George, 
and  Eliza  were  of  course  the  chief  speakers,  though 
Henry,  Thomas,  and  William,  often  made  their  speech, 
and  threw  their  light  upon  the  subject.  These  discus 
sions  were  pursued  with  the  more  earnestness  and  in 
terest,  inasmuch  as  the  speakers  considered  themselves 
urged  to  those  inquiries  by  the  mournful  consideration, 
that  in  so  doing  they  were  fulfilling  the  last  wish  and 
charge  of  their  deceased  head.  His  spirit  was  consid- 


70  GEORGE  MASON 

ered  as  one  of  the  number,  still  pressing  the  grand  max 
im  of  his  life,  "  never  to  despond,"  and  urging  them  to 
task  their  inventive  powers  to  the  utmost  to  find  some 
branch  of  industry,  in  pursuing  which,  they  might  ob 
tain  a  decent  livelihood.  If  the  reader  would  not  have 
felt  a  smile  out  of  place  in  this  family,  he  could  not  have 
restrained  a  smile  at  hearing  some  of  the  propositions 
of  the  junior  members  of  this  singular  debating  society. 
Henry  proposed  the  mystery  of  bird-catching,  and  send 
ing  cages  of  mocking-birds,  red-birds,  parroquets,  and 
turtle-doves  to  New-Orleans  for  sale.  Thomas  was  for 
applying  their  exertions  to  the  gathering  reed-canes^ 
and  sending  them  to  the  Northern  manufacturers  for 
Weavers'  sleys.  George  had  high  hopes  from  a  chemi 
cal  composition  for  ink  and  blacking,  which  he  expect 
ed  to  complete  from  the  vegetables  of  the  country. 
Mrs.  Mason  and  Eliza  limited  their  .projects  to  the 
tried  and  simple  experiment  of  raising  cotton,  and  spin 
ning  night  and  day  to  clothe  themselves,  and  manufac 
ture  a  little  surplus  for  sale.  A  thousand  inconvenien 
ces  attended  every  experiment,  as  preliminary  diffi 
culties.  The  proposer  was  generally  overwhelmed  by 
the  objections  of  the  next  speaker.  One  project  was 
abandoned  to  find  difficulties  equally  insuperable,  ap* 
pewded  to  another.  Niglrt  after  night,  and  week  after 
\veek,  wore  away  in  the  unprofitable  speculations  of 
theory.  The  debating  society  generally  retired  from 
the  evening  fire  to  their  beds,  their  brain  dry  and  ex 
hausted  by  useless  reaching  for  some  practicable  pro 
ject,  and  their  hearts  sunk  with  the  discouraging  im 
pression,  that  nothing  was  before  them  but  the  same 
hopeless  poverty. 

But  when  their  supper  of  milk,  corn-bread,  and 
sweet  potatoes  was  finished,  and  they  were  again  as 
sembled  about  the  evening  fire,  the  repetition  ot  the 
ancient  maxim,  ":  never  despair,"  like  a  voice  from 
heaven,  renewed  their  courage  and  strength  for  a  new 
discussion.  Success,  as  it  ought,  ultimately  attended 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  71 

these  counsels.  The  post-master,  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  had  noticed  George,  and  had  inquired  into  the 
circumstances  and  character  of  the  family.  He  was  a 
man,  who  had  both  understanding  and  a  heart.  He 
never,  it  is  true,  had  proposed  to  himself  to  be  a  Me- 
czenas,  or  to  establish  a  manufacturing  village.  But  if 
we  could  know  all  the  good  thoughts  that  pass  in  the 
minds  of  humble  and  undistinguished  people,  who  ^ex 
pect  neither  notoriety  nor  advantage  from  those  thoughts, 
we  could  not  but  think  better  of  the  species  and  human 
nature.  While  this  family  was  wearying  itself  in  fruit 
less  attempts  to  invent  some  kind  of  pursuit  in  which 
to  employ  their  industry,  he  had  mere  than  once  been 
occupied  in  the  benevolent  desire  to  be  useful  10  them. 
As  a  foretaste  of  good  will  to  them,  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  sending  George  the  newspapers  and  pamphlets,  that 
came  to  his  office,  after  he  had  perused  them.  These 
were  beneficial  to  thorn  in  a  hundred  ways.  They 
taught  the  children  to  read.  In  an  imperfect  degree 
they  supplied  the  want  of  books.  They  learned  from 
them  the  events,  passions,  and  employments  of  the 
great  world.  The  thousand  projects  and  discoveries  of 
manufacturing  inventiveness  were  brought  to  their  view, 
They  could  thus  trace  the  range  of  other  minds  in  the 
same  inquiries,  which  themselves  were  pursuing  with 
so  much  interest.  Among  other  inventions  in  manufac 
tures,  they  noted  with  keen  interest,  that  the  town  from 
which  they  had  emigrated,  had  become  famous  for  the 
manufacture  of  a  new  kind  of  grass-bonnets,  in  imita 
tion  of  Leghorn  straw.  A  premium  of  fifty  dollars  had 
been  obtained  by  a  school-mate  of  Eliza's,  for  a  bonnet 
of  this  kind,  which  had  sold  for  thirty  dollars  beside. 
Eighty  dollars  for  a  single  bonnet,  and  that  made  by  a 
girl  neither  older,  nor  more  ingenious,  than  herself!  In 
fact  the  whole  family,  from  constantly  seeing  the  manu 
facture  going  on  about  them,  while  in  New-England, 
had  become  familiar  with  all  the  mysteries  of  cutting, 
splitting,  bleaching,  and  platting  straw,  and  with  every 


72 


GEORGE  MASON, 


stage  of  the  operation,  from  cutting  the  grain  to  ar 
ranging  the  anificial  flowers  on  the  finished  honnet. 
From  a  dissertation  upon  the  kind  of  grass,  used  in 
this  manufacture,  George  was  confident,  that  it  was 
none  other,  than  the  identical  crab-grass,  which  was 
such  an  abundant  and  troublesome  inmate  in  their  corn 
field.  So  impatient  were  they  all,  to  satisfy  themselves 
upon  this  point,  that  immediately  after  reading  the  ar 
ticle  in  question,  George  and  Henry  sallied  out  with  a 
light,  at  ten  in  the  evening,  to  gather  some  of  the  crab- 
grass,  and  to  satisfy  themselves,  as  to  its  capabilities  for 
this  manufacture.  The  article  was  still  unharmed  by 
the  frost,  though  so  late  in  the  season,  and  Madam  Ma 
son  and  Eliza  found  it  to  succeed,  on  experiment,  be 
yond  their  most  sanguine  expectations.  They  retired 
to  rest,  full  of  cheerful  and  golden  dreams,  even  Eliza 
dreaming,  that  the  children  were  all  clad  in  new  suits 
with  shoes  and  stockings,  and  that  she  and  her  mother 
were  once  more  fine. 

This  was  a  project  for  immediate  and  earnest  trial. 
Sufficient  quantities  of  the  grass  were  collected  from 
the  field.  George  and  the  boys  concluded  to  try  their 
skill  upon  the  coarser  manufacture  of  Vevay  straw-hats 
for  gentlemen,  of  which  some  for  domestic  use  were 
already  made  in  the  settlement.  Plenty  of  the  finest 
oat-straw  for  that  purpose  was  readily  obtained  in  the 
settlement.  In  the  papers,  too,  were  minute  disserta 
tions  upon  rearing  the  silk-worm,  and  the  making  of 
silk.  The  woods  about  them  abounded  in  mulberry- 
trees,  and  there  were  acres  covered  with  young  and 
thrifty  ones,  such  as  were  represented  to  be  iu  the  right 
stage,  to  furnish  tender  leaves  for  feeding  the  silk-worm. 
Eggs  for  rearing  the  worms  were  offered  gratuitously, 
to  encourage  this  species  of  industry.  Behold  the 
promise  of  pleasant,  practicable,  and  profitable  labor, 
both  for  winter  and  summer.  The  adventurer,  whose 
ticket  has  obtained  the  fortunate  prize  of  fifty  thousand 
dollars  may  feel  more  intoxicating  enjoyment,  in  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  73 

first  raptures  of  success,  but  we  question  if  his  medita 
tions,  on  the  whole,  are  as  calm,  tranquillizing,  salatary, 
and  enduring,  as  were  the  anticipations  of  this  family, 
in  laying  out  their  plans  of  future  industry  and  suc 
cess. 

The  trials  and  efforts  of  Madam  Mason  and  her 
daughter  were  commenced  with  the  morning  light,  and 
scarcely  relinquished  until  midnight.  Their  slender 
fingers  were  guided  by  all  the  skill,  derived  from  prac- 
ticev  in  New-England,  by  way  of  amusement,  and  by 
having  been  reared  where  such  operations  and  pursuits 
were  familiar,,  and  carried  on  by  every  one  about  them. 
It  is  true,  they  did  not  succeed  to  their  minds  at  once. 
But  active  and  ingenious  people,  who  are  in  earnest, 
and  determined  not  to  be  discouraged,  seldom  fail  in 
such  efforts,  and  soon  improve  upon  their  first  attempts. 
As  faith  in  religion  can  remove  mountains^  so  cour 
age,  patience,  industry,  and  perseverance  conquer  all 
difficulties  in  practice.  The  inexperienced  manufactur 
ers  made  many  mistakes,  and  slow  progress  at  first. 
But  in  the  course  of  the  winter,  the  mother  and  daugh 
ter  had  made  two  grass  bonnets,  of  which  the  first  might 
be  said  to  be  quite  tolerable,  and  *the  last  even  beauti 
ful,  in  comparison  with  Leghorn  straws.  George  and  his 
brothers,  in  the  same  interval,  had  completed  eight  gen 
tlemen's  straw  hats,  which  were  considered  merchanta 
ble,  besides  one,  of  a  less  perfect  workmanship  and  the 
fruit  of  their  first  essays  and  experiments,  for  each  one 
of  their  own  number.  The  last  half-dozen  were  wrought 
with  considerable  ingenuity  and  neatness.  In  the  same 
period,  they  had  made  considerable  preparation  for  the 
manufacture  of  silk,  in  which  they  were  favored  by 
their  friend,  the  postmaster,  who  not  only  furnished 
them  with  all  his  printed  information,  in  relation  to  this 
business,  but  franked  their  letters,  requesting  eggs,  and 
had  the  pleasure  of  learning  that  their  requests  were 
granted,  and  the  eggs  forwarded  according  to  their 
desire. 


74      ,  GEORGE  MASON, 

March  had  come  again;  but  the  venerated  head  of 
the  family  would  come  no  more,  to  enjoy  with  his  dear 
family  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  brooks  tufted  with  the 
beautiful  blossoms  of  the  meadow-pink,  and  the  woods 
rendered  gay  with  the  opening  flowers  of  the  red-bud. 
But  these  harbingers  of  spring  admonished  them,  in 
compliance  with  his~  last  wishes,  to  begin  their  prepara 
tions  for  subsistence  through  the  coming  year.  It  was 
necessary  that  the  field  should  be  ploughed  this  season. 
The  frank  deportment  and  the  persevering  industry  of 
George  had  so  far  won  upon  the  good  feelings  of  the 
planters  about  them,  that  two  of  the  richest  offered  to 
send  their  slaves  and  teams  to  plough  his  field.  It  was 
regarded  in  the  family  as  a  gift  from  heaven  ;  for  they 
could  not  expect  a  second  crop,  without  ploughing  ; 
neither  had  they  been  able  to  devise  any  possible  means 
of  hiring  it  done.  It  inspired  them  with  new  courage. 
and  was  regarded  as  an  omen  of  future  good  fortune. 

This  grand  difficulty  overcome,  it  was  proposed,  that 
before  planting,  George  and  Henry  should  carry  the 
fruits  of  their  winter's  industry  to  the  village  on  the 
banks  for  sale,  at  the  time,  when  they  were  advertised 
by  the  papers,  that  a  s^eam-boat  would  arrive  there  from 
New-Orleans.  It  seemed,  though  they  admitted  a 
slender  one,  the  only  chance  that  offered  for  a  market 
for  their  bonnets  and  hats.  They  had  made  some  ef 
forts,  indeed,  to  sell  these  articles  tp  some  of  their  more 
opulent  neighbours.  They  had  even  offered  the  best 
bonnet  for  the  ploughing  of  their  field.  But  such  is  the 
effect  of  prejudice,  that  these  men  found  the  bonnets 
and  hats  mean  and  coarse,  compared  with  much  meaner 
and  coarser  hats  and  bonnets  bought  from  the  stores. 
An  impartial  eye  conld  have  seen  at  once  the  superiority 
of  their  articles.  But  these  had  been  made  at  home 
and  under  their  eye,  and  without  mystery,  and  by  a 
destitute  family  with  worn  and  patched  garments  and 
bare  feet.  Those  that  they  purchased  from  the  stores, 
were  far-fetched  and  dear-bought.  So  true  is  it,  that 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


75 


manufactures,  like  prophets,  are  not  like  to  be  honored 
in  their  own  country.  It  is  human  nature,  to  undervalue 
what  grows  up  under  our  own  eye.  Of  all  this  Mrs. 
Mason  was  fully  aware.  Hero  and  emperor,  as  George 
was,  in  her  eye,  she  was  aware,  that  he  was  an  inexpe 
rienced  trader  ;  that  his  market  was  a  most  unpromising 
one,  and  she  allowed  herself  to  indulge  but  very  slender 
hopes  from  the  proposed  excursion  to  the  river.  But 
there  was  neither  shoe  nor  stocking  in  the  family. 
Notwithstanding  the  mending  and  patching  of  decency 
and  honest  pride,  their  last  dress  was  rapidly  verging 
to  rags.  They  already  hid  themselves  from  their  neigh 
bours  as  they  passed.  As  the  mother  made  her  last 
arrangements  for  the  departure  of  her  boys  on  this 
excursion,  it  was  wilh  many  prayers  and  tears.  Never 
theless,  the  grand  maxim  of  her  dear  departed  husband, 
"  never  to  despair,"  came  to  her  thoughts,  as  though  it 
were  his  spirit  hovering  near  to  cheer  them.  Her  last 
and  best  exertions  were  made  to  render  them  as  neat 
and  decent  in  their  appearance,  as  circumstances  would 
admit.  But  though  their  clothes  were  so  patched  and 
seamed,  that  the  original  material  and  the  ground  color 
could  be  hardly  discerned,  it  was  manifest  that  they 
were  children  of  a  mother  who  had  been  used  to  decency 
and  respectable  society.  After  giving  them  all  the 
counsels  of  maternal  apprehension  and  forecast,  after 
long  and  laborious  dictation,  what  was  to  be  said  and 
done,  in  various  supposed  cases,  she  did  up  the  venture 
in  two  bundles  in  the  only  two  decent  handkerchiefs 
remaining  in  the  family,  the  larger  to  be  borne  by 
George,  and  the  smaller  by  Henry;  she  kissed  them  both, 
suppressed  her  starting  tears,  and  trusting  the  .return 
purchases,  if  they  made  sales,  entirely  to  the  judgment 
of  George,  and  his  knowledge  of  what  they  needed 
most,  she  sent  them  forth.  An  India  merchant,  who 
out  a  ship  carrying  specie  to  China,  knows  nothing  of 
the  anxious  solicitudes  of  this  mother  in  the  case.  The 
poor  widow,  who  sends  her  only  son  on  a  voyage,  and 


76  GEORGE  MASON 


raises  her  last  dollar  to  fix  him  out  with  an  adventure, 
can  understand  the  case  better. 

The  younger  boys  and  Eliza  were  in  high  spirits,  and 
tripped  along  with  them  to  the  steps  that  led  out  of  the 
field.  She  gave  them  many  counsels  in  relation  to  the 
pretty  articles,  which  she  wished  them  to  bring  back.  At 
the  steps  she  kissed  them,  shook  hands  with  them,  and 
again  and  again  wished  them  a  good  voyage,  which  was 
earnestly  echoed  by  the  younger  ones,  and  they  set 
forth  alone. 

I  know  not  how  the  reader  feels,  but  I  feel  as  much 
interest  in  the  march  of  these  barefooted  boys  along  the 
deep  forest,  as  I  do  in  reading  about  the  adevntures 
and  ridiculous  distresses  of  fine  dressed  lords  and  ladies. 
Of  all  stupid  things  in  our  world,  it  is  the  most  stupid, 
as  we  have  before  remarked,  that  the  great  mass  of 
readers  should  have  thought,  that  there  Was  no  dignity 
nor  interest  in  any  adventures,  but  those  of  men  that 
have  fine  houses  and  coaches.  There  are  only  a  few 
hundreds  of  the  former  in  our  whole  country.  There 
are  a  million  who  can  claim  the  alliance  of  kindred 
fortune  with  George  and  Henry.  The  movements  of 
human  nature  are  just  as  strong  in  them,  and  if  we 
would  study  them,  would  be  found  possessing  as  high 
an  interest  as  those  of  the  former. 

It  was  a  beautiful  March  morning  when  they  started,  and 
the  swelling  buds  of  the  Spice-Wood  filled  the  air  with 
aromatic  fragrance.  Wherever  they  crossed  a  run  with  a 
southern  exposure,  they  saw  the  delicious  meadow-pink 
and  the  red-bud  in  flower.  The  beauty  of  the  day,  that  in 
explicable  spirit  of  freshness  and  joy  to  the  whole  creation, 
which,  spring  diffuses  over  earth  and  through  air,  and  with 
which  it  fills  every  thing  that  has  life  with  gaiety  and 
songs  ;  the  alcove  of  branches  in  the  grand  forest  through 
H%hich  they  passed,  just  beginning  to  be  tinged  with 

(countless  points  of  green;  every  thing  on  their  way  was 
of  a  freshness  to  cheer  every  thing  but  despair.  They, 
too,  were  full  of  the  freshness  and  buoyancy  of  youthful 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  77 

existence,  and  the  sweet  illusions  of  hope  were  diffused 
over  their  minds.  They  walked  almost  with  a  bound. 
They  whistled,  and  sung,  as  an  echo  to  the  songs  of  the 
forest,  and  for  the  first  six  miles  of  their  way,  no  doubts 
or  fears  had  mingled  with  their  expectations.  But  we 
all  of  us  from  four  to  fourscore  are  creatures  of  the 
elements;  our  joys  and  our  sorrows,  the  fabric  of  a 
passing  remembrance,  a  floating  cloud,  a  change  in  the 
temperature  ;  and  the  sunshine  of  the  mind  vanishes 
with  that  of  the  sky.  Before  they  reached  the  river, 
the  sun  rode  high,  and  the  day  was  sultry.  They  had 
become  weary,  and  the  excess  of  morning  gaiety  and 
hope  was  gone.  For  a  couple  of  hours  they  had  lived, 
too  fast,  and  the  revulsion  of  discouragement  followed. 
Whoever  had  met  them  at  that  time,  would  have  noted 
in  their  weary  and  listless  step,  and  their  dejected  coun 
tenances,  that  their  sanguine  anticipations  were  gone. 
Henry  began  very  frankly  to  confess  his  doubts  and  dis 
couragements.  George  in  heart  was  as  much  discour 
aged,  as  his  brother ;  but  he  had  practically  and  thorough' 
learned  the  hard  lesson  of  putting  a  good  face  upon  a 
hopeless  project.  So  he  put  himself,  to  his  utmost  in 
genuity,  to  prove  to  his  brother,  that  nobody  could  ever 
hope  to  succeed  in  any  project  with  a  sad  countenance, 
and  a  discouraged  look.  "  Jf  we  do  not  look  cheerful  and 
full  of  hope,  when  we  arrive,"  said  he,  "  that  alone  would 
spoil  our  market.  Tf  I  were  going  to  the  gallows,  I 
would  strive  to  put  a  good  face  upon  it."  He  then  ex 
erted  his  utmost  ingenuity  to  prove  to  his  brother,  that 
they  actually  would  do  well.  Children  are  easy  to  con 
vince,  especially  when  they  wish  to  be  convinced. 
While  they  rested  a  few  moments,  he  entreated  his 
brother  to  look  cheerful,  and  by  making  such  efforts 
with  him  actually  became  so  himself.  More  of  the 
secret  of  success  in  life  lies  in  this  thing,  than  many  ^. 
readers  imagine. 

They  arose,  resuming  their  morning  faces,  and  march 
ed  on,  whistling  and   singing,  until  they  arrived  at  the 
7* 


78  GEORGE  MASON, 

river.  The  steam-boat  had  just  fired  its  cannon,  and 
swept  to  the  bank  in  all  the  pageantry  of  display,  as 
they  arrived.  It  may  be  imagined,  what  an  imposing 
spectacle  it  presented  to  boys,  who  for  so  many  months 
had  seen  nothing  but  log-cabins  and  trees.  Hundreds 
of  waggish  boat-men  were  raising  the  wind  on  the  deck, 
and  seventy-five  or  eighty  gaily  dressed  cabin-passen 
gers  sprang  ashore,  as  soon  as  the  plank  was  put  out. 
A  trading-boat  was  moored  a  few  rods  above  them. 
George  considered  this  a  good  omen.  The  people  on 
those  boats  are  known  to  be  traders  and  traffickers,  who 
deal  in  every  thing.  Besides,  it  was  to  remain  there 
two  days,  whereas  the  steam-boat  was  only  to  take  in 
wood  and  a  few  passengers,  and  would  depart  in  a  cou 
ple  of  hours ;  of  course  the  first  trading  essay  of  the 
two  boys  would  be  made  upon  the  steam-boot.  It  will 
be  seen  that  it  was  but  an  unpromising  business  for  two 
ragged  boys  to  carry  such  articles,  as  hats  and  bonnets 
for  sale  on  board  such  a  steam-boat,  returning  from  New- 
Orleans,  crowded  with  passengers,  some  of  them  dan 
dies,  some  of  them  belles,  many  of  them  empty,  heart 
less,  and  unfeeling,  most  of  them  in  a  careless,  tooth 
pick  frame,  and  scarcely  one  of  them  disposed  to  offer 
a  fair  chance  to  the  intended  speculation  of  the  boys. 
True,  they  were  boys  with  fine  faces,  and  keen  observ 
ers  might  easily  have  noted,  that  they  were  not  common 
boys.  But  who  of  the  card-playing  people,  and  the 
vain  women  on  board  the  sleam-boat,  yawning  with  en 
nui,  and  greedy  only  for  some  kind  of  heartless  distrac 
tion,  would  inspect  them  close  enough  to  look  beyond 
their  first  appearance  and  their  rags?  Besides,  all 
that  could  be  supposed  capable  of  such  a  purchase, 
had  been  to  the  great  mart  of  finery,  New-Orleans,  and 
would  little  think  of  supplying  themselves  with  any 
thing  they  had  overlooked  there,  in  such  a  place  as  this. 
All  these  thoughts  were  sufficiently  obvious  oven  to  the 
inexperience  of  George.  His  heart  palpitated.  His 
mouth  was  dry,  and  as  he  gave  his  hand  to  his  brother 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  79 

Henry,  to  lead  him  along  the  plank  on  board  the  boat, 
his  very  hand  was  covered  with  a  cold  sweat.  Never 
had  the  poor  lad  more  urgent  occasion  for  his  motto, 
"  Don't  give  up  the  ship."  He  assumed  the  courage 
of  desperation,  and  walked  up  to  a  tall  gentleman  with 
an  air  of  patronage  and  authority,  who  seemed  to  be  a 
kind  of  chief  gallant  among  the  ladies.  "  Will  you  please 
to  have  any  of  our  hats  and  bonnets,  sir  ?  "  said  he. 

The  gentleman  answered  carelessly,  but  kindly, 
"  My  boys,  I  have  no  need  of  either."  But,  as  if  struck 
with  the  singularity  of  the  offer  of  such  articles  in  such 
a  place ;  "  let  us  look  at  them  though,"  he  continued  ; 
"  what  kind  of  hats  and  bonnets  do  you  make  here  ?  " 
To  have  a  chance  to  display  his  articles  was  an  unex 
pected  advantage,  and  no  small  point  gained.  So  he 
very  modestly  undid  his  handkerchiefs,  and  spread  his 
hats  and  bonnets  before  the  gentleman.  It  is  more 
than  probable,  that  he  had  made  the  proposition  to  the 
boys  merely  to  bring  about  a  conversation  with:  the  ladies. 
"  Come,  and  look,  ladies,"  said  he.  "  Why,  they  are  fine. 
Upon  my  word,  if  we  have  not  come  all  the  way  from 
New-Orleans  to  a  bonnet-market  at  the  Iron  Banks  ! 
Who  made  these  articles .?  "  he  continued,  handling  them 
rather  rudely.  "  My  mother,  and  myself,"  answered 
George,  firmly.  "  Please  not  to  rumple  them,  sir." 

By  this  time  a  circle  was  formed  round  the  boys  and 
their  articles.  Any  person,  who  has  witnessed  such  a 
scene,  knows  how  little  feeling  there  is  in  such  cases. 
Some  of  the  ladies  showed  their  wit,  by  laughing  at  the 
bonnets.  Another  took  one  of  them  up  and  ran  to  the 
mirror,  screwing  it  sidewise  on  ther  head,  and  giving 
herself  a  great  many  pretty  airs  in  this  ridiculous  posi 
tion,  well  pleased  to  have  gained  the  general  laugh  of 
the  gentlemen.  George  felt  every  ill-natured  remark 
upon  his  hats  and  bonnets,  as  he  would  have  felt  an 
insult  upon  his  mother,  and  every  rude  pull  upon  his 
bonnets,  as  though  it  were  upon  his  heart-strings.  His 
temper, — for  he  was  a  high-spirited  boy, — was  fifty  times 


80  GEORGE  MASON, 

ready  to  burst  forth.  But  he  sa\v,  that  all  depended 
upon  self-possession.  So  he  swallowed  his  words,  and 
attempted  to  conceal  the  palpitations  of  his  heart,  as  they 
agitated  his  tattered  jacket,  and  bade  himself  be  calm. 
Some  tumbled  over  his  hats,  remarking,  that  they  show 
ed  an  astonishing  ingenuity,  and  began  to  ask  questions 
about  a  family,  that  could  originate  such  manufactures 
in  such  a  place.  To  all  these  questions  George  and 
even  Henry  had  such  modest,  prompt,  and  proper  an 
swers,  that  persons  of  much  thought  and  feeling  would 
naturally  have  been  aroused  to  an  interest  in  them. 
But,  unfortunately,  there  is  little  of  the  kind  to  be  ex 
pected  in  such  circumstances.  In  such  places  they 
generally  prefer  to  show  their  own  wit  and  talent  at 
ridicule,  rather  than  exercise  consideration  and  benevo 
lence  to  little  paupers  like  these.  There  was,  in  partic 
ular,  a  forward  young  lady  with  a  fine  complexion,  who 
was  pretty,  conceited,  and  vain,  the  belle  and  the  wit  of 
her  village,  when  at  home,  and  she  had  been  a  third- 
rate  blue-stocking  even  at  New-Orleans  ;  she  was,  more 
over,  wealthy  and  dressed  as  fine  as  colors,  ribbands,  and 
lace  could  make  her.  She  made  such  ridiculous  efforts 
to  squeeze  the  handsomest  bonnet  over  her  huge  combs 
upon  her  head,  as  made  Henry  cry  out  in  terror,  "  that 
she  would  spoil  the  bonnet."  A  lady  of  more  charac 
ter  and  consideration  saw,  and  pitied  the  distress  of  the 
boy5  and  begged  her,  if  she  did  not  wish  to  purchase  it, 
at  least  to  return  it  without  injury.  This  polite  and 
proper  rebuke  piqued  her,  nor  was  it  the  first  time  she 
had  been  piqued  with  this  lady  of  superior  understand 
ing,  during  this  trip.  She  returned  the  bonnet  to  George, 
comparing  it  with  her  own  Leghorn,  however,  as  she 
returned  it.  Her  own  was  certainly  a  meaner  bonnet, 
though  dizzened  with  ornaments  and  artificial  flowers. 
"  You  see,  my  boy,"  said  she.,  holding  her  own  beside  his, 
"  that  I  should  hardly  want  to  buy  such  a  thing,  as  this. 
Still,  as  you  seem  to  be  poor,  I  will  give  you  half  a  dol 
lar."  At  the  same  time  she  offered  him  one  from  her 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


81 


splendid  purse.  Half  dollars  had  been  rare  visitants 
with  George,  and  he  thought  how  much  it  would  pur 
chase  for  his  mother.  A  glo~w  passed  over  his  cheek. 
He  knew  not,  whether  the  feeling  were  pride,  resent 
ment,  or  proper  spirit.  He  was  not  casuist  enough  to 
decide  in  a  moment,  whether  he  ought  or  ought  not  to 
refuse  the  money.  But  he  answered  promptly,  "  Thank 
you,  ma'am  ;  I  should  be  glad  to  sell,  but  I  did  not  come 
to  beg.  As  you  do'nt  find  my  bonnets  worth  buying,  I 
will  go."  An  answer  so  proper  from  a  boy  so  young 
and  so  dressed,  produced  an  instant  and  unexpected 
impression.  It  did  the  business  for  George.  It  aroused 
attention,  and  created  instant  sympathy.  The  consider 
ate  lady,  who  had  spoken  before,  whispered  a  person 
who  seemed  to  be  her  brother,  and  a  momentary  con 
sultation  ensued  between  them,  and  the  gentlemen 
and  ladies  in  general.  The  gentleman  came  forward, 
and  asked  George  the  price  of  his  bonnets  and  his  hats. 
"  Six  dollars  for  the  one,  four  for  the  other,  and  sev 
enty-five  cents  for  each  of  the  hats  ; "  was  the  answer. 
The  gentleman  remarked,  as  one  who  was  a  judge,  that 
the  best  bonnet  was  a  fine  one,  and  ought  to  sell  for 
more  than  the  price  asked.  He  proposed  to  buy  it.  and 
dispose  of  it  in  a  lottery,  to  which  there  was  an  assent 
by  general  acclamation.  He  paid  George  six  dollars, 
and  took  the  bonnet.  I  dare  affirm,  that  receiving  these 
six  dollars  made  him  happier  than  Napoleon  was,  when, 
amidst  all  the  splendors  of  Paris,  and  the  acclamations 
of  marshals  and  nobles  and  conquered  icings,  he  put  on 
the  imperial  crown.  The  example  was  contagious. 
All  at  once  it  was  discovered,  that  the  hats  were  light 
and  fine  for  the  approaching  summer.  The  story  of  the 
cleverness  of  the  poor  boys  ran  through  the  crowd. 
Strong  feeling,  excited  in  their  favour,  gave  them  credit 
for  even  more  than  they  possessed.  In  a  few  minutes 
George  had  sold  five  of  his  hats. 

Delighted  beyond   measure,  he   skipped   up  the  lad 
der  among  the  hundreds,  who  were   crowded  on  the- 


82  GEORGE  MASON, 

deck.  There  was  no  hope  for  the  sale  of  the  remain 
ing  grass-bonnet  among  the  plain  and  hardy  fellows 
there.  But  no  one  laughed  at  him  for  being  ragged, 
and  he  sold  another  of  his  straw  hats.  The  bell  rung 
for  all  on  shore  to  come  on  board,  and  all  on  board, 
that  did  not  belong  there,  to  be  off.  The  cannon  fired, 
and  George  was  admonished,  that  the  steam-boat  was 
getting  under  way.  He  carefully  led  his  brother  Henry 
ashore,  and  with  feelings  very  different  from  those 
with  which  he  came  on  board.  He  had  in  hand  ten 
dollars  and  a  half,  and  to  him  it  was  the  treasure  of  the 
Indies.  The  boys  were  now  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  be 
delighted  with  seeing  the  gay  steam-boat,  with  her  col 
ors  raised  and  her  pennons  flying,  moving  majestically 
round,  as  the  wheels  began  to  throw  up  the  foam,  and 
as  she  began  to  take  her  strong  march  against  the  cur 
rent  of  the  mighty  stream. 

There  still  remained  one  bonnet  and  two  hats.  The 
boys  had  now  acquired  confidence  from  success,  and 
they  walked  up  the  stream  a  few  paces,  to  where  the 
trading-boat  was  moored.  The  two  partners,  who  man 
aged  it,  probably  took  them  to  be  boys  bringing  eggs 
on  board  for.  sale.  One  of  them  held  out  his  hand,  to 
lead  them  aboard. 

"  What  do  you  ask  for  your  eggs  ?  "  was  the  ques 
tion. 

"  We  have  none  to  sell,"  answered  George,  "  but  an 
imitation  Leghorn  bonnet,  and  a  couple  of  gentlemen's 
straw  hats." 

The  traders  were  shrewd  fellows  from  Connecticut, 
whose  business  on  the  river,  as  they  phrased  it  with 
the  true  northern  accent,  was  "  trading  and  trafficking," 
and  to  whom  no  article  of  barter  came  amiss.  Like 
the  people  in  the  steam-boat,  their  curiosity  was  excit 
ed  by  having  such  articles  offered  there,  in  a  region, 
where  they  had  been  accustomed  to  suppose  nothing 
was  manufactured.  These  knowing  traders  examined 
the  articles  with  seeming  carelessness,  but  they  com- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  83 

prehended  the  character  and  circumstances  of  the  boys 
in  a  moment,  learned  that  they  were  Yankess,  and 
perceived,  that  they  offered  their  articles  cheap.  They 
ascertained,  too,  at  once,  that  they  had  money,  which 
they  wished  to  expend  in  purchases.  Such  an  oppor 
tunity  to  "  trade  and  traffic  "  was  not  to  be  lost. 

The  sight  of  so  many  goods,  arranged  for  show  and 
effect,  and  with  many  a  gaudy  article  on  the  external 
part  of  the  shelves,  to  strike  the  eye,  could  not  fail  to 
arrest  the  admiration  of  the  boys  from  the  woods. 
Henry  held  up  his  hands,  exclaiming,  '"  Oh  !  brother, 
brother,  what  would  I  give  to  carry  home  some  of 
these  fine  things  to  mother  and  the  children.  Dear 
George,  you  must  buy  some  of  these  things  for  them." 
After  a  little  pretended  difficulty  about  the  price,  the 
traders  purchased  the  remaining  bonnet  and  hats.  But 
it  was  part  of  the  contract,  that  the  boys  were  to  re 
ceive  their  pay  in  goods,  and  moreover,  to  expend 
their  money  in  purchases  there,  they  engaging  to  furn 
ish  every  article  as  cheap  as  could  be  bought  at  the 
stores.  Sorry  I  am  to  say,  that  George,  with  all  his 
natural  cleverness  and  quickness,  had  better  thrown  his 
articles  into  the  river,  than  have  dealt  with  one  of  these 
traders.  But  one  of  the  traders  was  endowed  with  a 
heart  and  a  conscience,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  in  his 
case.  The  artless  story  of  the  boys  had  moved  his 
pity  and  his  feelings.  He  was  determined,  that  no  ad 
vantage  should  be  taken  of  their  youth  and  inexperi 
ence.  He  called  his  partner  aside,  and  told  him  as 
much.  The  younger  of  the  traders  re'monstrated,  but 
being  the  inferior  partner,  was  oblighed  to  yield,  while 
the  elder  dealt  with  them.  The  whole  amount  of  the 
purchase  was  to  be  sixteen  dollars.  The  trader  made 
many  considerate  and  kind  inquiries  with  a  sincere 
view  to  inform  himself,  what  they  most  needed  at  home. 
It  was  a  business  of  extreme  perplexity  with  George, 
to  decide  between  conflicting  claims  in  their  purchases. 
He  went  on  shore  with  Henry  to  consult  with  him  on 


84  GEORGE  MASON, 

points,  that  pride  forbade  him  to  mention  before  the 
traders.  After  all,  it  would  have  occupied  all  the  day, 
to  fix  on  the  specific  articles  to  purchase,  had  it  not 
been  necessary,  that  he  should  decide  in  season  to  re 
turn  honrxe  that  night.  The  important  selections  at 
length,  after  much  doubt  and  solicitude,  and  aided  by 
the  honest  and  more  decided  judgment  of  the  trader, 
were  made.  They  consisted  of  patterns  for  a  chintz 
dress  for  the  mother  and  daughter,  a  pair  of  shoes  for 
each,  and  patterns  for  a  domestic  cotton  dress  for  each 
of  the  children  beside.  Two  dollars,  that  remained, 
were  bestowed  in  coffee  and  sugar,  luxuries  that  had 
not  been  tasted  in  the  family,  since  the  first  month 
after  their  arrival  in  the  country.  The  trader  had  not 
only  given  them  the  full  value  of  their  money  and  arti 
cles,  but  had  generously  allowed  them  more,  and  in 
the  noble  spirit  of  saving  their  feelings,  and  wishing 
them  to  receive  it,  not  as  a  gift,  but  as  a  purchase. 
The  whole  amount,  when  done  up  in  a  bundle,  was'no 
inconsiderable  package,  and  constituted  a  burden  too 
heavy  for  their  strength  and  the  distance  they  had  to 
travel  that  night.  Fortunately  a  neighbour  from  the 
settlement  was  in  at  the  river,  carrying  out  a  load  of 
articles  in  his  horse-wagon  to  the  settlement.  He  of 
fered  to  take  their  package,  and  even  themselves  back 
again.  But  as  his  wagon  was  heavily  loaded,  and  in 
convenient,  and  uncomfortable,  as  a  vehicle,  they  thank 
fully  accepted  the  offer  for  the  transport  of  their  pack 
age,  preferring  themselves  to  return  on  foot,  as  they 
came. 

This  matter  arranged,  away  marched  the  boys  for 
home,  with  hearts  as  light  as  a  feather.  It  was  cheer 
ing  to  hear  their  young  voices  echoing  in  songs  through 
the  woods,  as  they  walked  briskly  onward.  The  still 
dusk  of  a  March  sunset  overtook  them,  before  they 
readied  home.  It  happened  in  this  case,  as  it  always 
happens,  that  too  high  a  flood  of  joy  is  succeeded  in 
the  mind  by  an  ebb  of  sadness.  The  solemn  sensations 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  85 

of  decaying  light  in  the  forests,  weariness  and  the  reac 
tion  of  feelings,  that  had  been  too  highly  excited,  drew 
from  Henry,  with  a  long  sigh,  as  they  rested  for  a  mo 
ment,  this  remark  : 

"  Dear  George,  it  takes  away  all  rny  gladness  in  car 
rying  our  fine  things  home,  to  think  that  my  poor,  deal- 
father  is  gone,  never  to  come  back.  Oh  !  I  would 
give  all  this  world  that  lie  were  only  alive,  and  well ; 
what  we  have  got  would  render  him  so  happy  !  Oh  ! 
how  glad  he  would  be  to  see  that  we  are  able  to  make 
ourselves  cornfonable  and  take  care  of  ourselves  !  I 
shall  never  see  him  more,  and  I  care  nothing  about  all 
we  have  bought." 

As  this  thought  came  over  him,  in  all  its  bitterness, 
his  surcharged  heart  found  vent  to  its  feelings  in  a  burst 
of  weeping.  George  was  not  a  little  proud  of  his  repu 
tation  for  philosophy,  but  he  had  been  brooding  in  his 
mind  over  the  same  gloomy  train  of  remembrance,  and 
this  ill-timed  remark  of  his  brother,  the  echo  of  his  own 
thoughts,  so  nearly  vanquished  him,  that  he  was  obliged 
to  turn  away  to  conceal  the  tears,  that  were  forming  in 
his  own  eyes.  While  they  were  thus  crying  in  com 
pany,  their  neighbour's  was;on  came  up  with  them. 
His  company,  and  the  view  of  their  package  introduced 
a  new  train  of  thought.  They  were  still  two  miles 
from  home,  and  as  the  wagon  parted  from  their  path 
there,  and  took  another  direction,  it  become  neces 
sary,  that  they  should  take  their  package  them 
selves.  It  was  heavy;  but  it  was  a  precious  burden, 
and  they  wiped  their  eyes,  as  George  thanked  the 
neighbour,  and  bent  his  neck  to  it.  As  he  became 
weary  under  his  proud  burden,  Henry  shouldered  it, 
and  staggered  on  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  when  George  re 
sumed  it.  Jn  this  way,  they  arrived  in  view  of  the 
house.  Twilight  was  just  fading.  The  wooden  shut 
ters  were  not  closed,  and  a  bright  light  gleamed  from 
the  house.  The  sweet  and  subdued  voice  of  the  moth 
er  and  daughter  was  heard  within,  singing  the  evening 
8 


86  GEORGE  MASON, 

hymn.  They  distinctly  heard  the  burden  of  the  clos 
ing  stanza, 

"  Oh,  guide  the  dear  ones  safely  home." 

The  family  dog  received  them  with  his  caresses  at  the 
door.  The  two  boys  threw  down  their  package,  as 
they  entered,  and  rushing  to  the  arms  of  their  mother, 
made  no  effort  to  restrain  tears  of  joy.  They  both  sob 
bed  together,  "  Father,  dear  father,  if  you  were  only 
here  !  "  But  the  happy  tears,  and  kisses,  and  embraces, 
that  ensued,  were  only  those  of  tenderness  and  joy. 
They  all  agreed,  that  if  his  spirit  could  be  among  them, 
it  would  only  be  to  chide  them  for  any  other  feelings, 
than  those  of  gladness  on  this  occasion. 

And  now,  after  a  half  an  hour  spent  in  this  way, 
came  on,  of  course,  the  happy  business  of  unrolling  the 
goods  and  displaying  the  individual  character  of  their 
purchases.  My  reader  may  have  seen  a  lady  in  her 
birth-night  ball-dress.  lie  may  have  seen  a  dandy 
sport  a  suit  of  cluthes  in  an  entire  new  fashion.  He 
may  have  imagined  high  degrees  of  gratified  pride  and 
joy  on  occasions,  which  he  has  seen,  or  of  which  lie 
may  have  read.  But  I  question,  if  he  has  ever  seen, 
ov  read  of  a  more  real,  heart-felt,  and  honest  exultation 
and  joy,  than  that  of  this  family.  Ah!  my  dear  reader, 
I  hope  you  do  not  know  by  experience,  as  these  poor 
people  did,  that  it  is  bitter  privation,  that  teaches  us  the 
value  of  things  ;  that  it  is  poverty  which  instructs  us  to 
be  content,  and  glad,  with  a  little.  Who  can  tell  the 
gladness  of  heart  of  this  mother  and  daughter,  that  they 
should  be  once  more  /lecently  clad,  and  in  a  garb  to 
be  seen  !  The  two  boys  were  exulting  proudly  in 
their  own  wisdom,  cleverness,  and  management,  and  as 
a  spice  of  evil  mixes  with  all  our  good,  I  much  fear, 
there  was  in  their  hearts  a  dawning  feeling,  like 
that  of  the  exulting  monarch,  who  said,  "  Is  not  this 
great  Babylon,  which  I  have  luilt  ? "  Add  to  this 
the  gratified  pride  of  the  mother,  in  seeing  this  proof  of 
the  premature  industry  and  capacity  of  her  children  ; 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


87 


and  in  witnessing  the  fulfilment  of  her  departed  bus 
band's  prediction,  "  that  God  would  never  forsake  them, 
if  they  did  not  forsake  themselves."  One  of  the  most 
insupportable  b'firdens  of  extreme  poverty  was  not 
only  thrown  off,  but  a  prospect  opened  of  a  constant 
remedy  of  the  same  kind  for  the  future.  It  is  not 
necessary,  that  the  parties  should  be  kings,  or  rulers,  or 
rich,  or  distinguished,  to  be  capable  of  all  the  joy  and 
all  the  sorrow,  which  our  nature  is  susceptible  of  expe 
riencing.  I  dare  affirm,  that  this  family,  for  the  first 
hour  of  unrolling  these  articles,  and  examining  their  ex 
cellence,  and  exclaiming,  as  well  they  might,  at  their 
cheapness,  and  making  their  arrangements  for  the  share 
which  each  one  of  the  family  should  have  of  them,  and 
in  the  anticipated  joy  of  the  smartness  of  their  appear 
ance  in  their  new  dress,  and  listening  to  the  story  of 
the  sales  and  purchases,  was  one  of  the  happiest  for  the 
time  that  existed  in  our  world. 

Mrs.  Mason,  too,  had,  like  her  two  sons,  her  painful 
revulsion,  after  the  first  burst  of  joy.  She  remembered 
the  eye  that  used  to  kindle  with  such  intense  affection 
at  seeing  the  happiness  of  his  family.  She  remembered 
him  on  whose  bosom  she  had  divided  her  joys  and  sor 
rows.  She  remembered  his  satisfied  look,  as  he  saw 
his  children  happily  seated  round  the  evening  fire. 
She  felt,  too,  how  happy  this  evening  would  have  made 
him.  It  was  in  vain,  that  she  said  to  herself,  that  his 
ashes  only  remained  with  them,  under  the  sycamore, 
and  that  his  spirit  was  in  heaven,  and  infinitely  above 
such  poor  and  trifling  joys.  She  was  after  all  but  a 
frail  being  of  flesh  ;  and  unavailing  longing  for  his  loved 
society,  to  share  the  happiness  of  that  evening,  brought 
bitterness  in  the  midst  of  her  joy.  "Some  natural  tears 
she  dropp'd,  but  wip'd  them  soon."  Coffee  was  pre 
pared,  the  first  they  had  tasted  for  a  year,  and  the  ex- 
hilirating  beverage  had  a  relish  which  they  cannot 
know,  to  whom  it  is  a  daily  repast. 

To   make   the  dresses  was  the   work  of  the  mother 


88 


GEORGE  MASON, 


and  daughter.  Privation  rendered  this  labor,  which  in 
so  many  instances  is  considered  a  painful  toil,  a  delight 
ful  pastime.  The  boys,  the  while,  were  in  the  field, 
busily  engaged  in  planting,  and  delighted,  on  their  re 
turn  from  labor,  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  important 
operations  within.  They  within,  too,  often  came  out  to 
observe  how  the  labors  of  the  field  succeeded.  During 
this  inspection,  we  see  George  in  the  honest  pride  of 
head  workman  and  overseer  in  this  important  business, 
directing  Henry  to  straighten  the  rows,  and  Thomas 
to  take  some  kernels  from  the  hill,  or  add  them,  as  he 
saw  the  case  require.  These  subalterns,  tooi  had  a 
pride,  in  manifesting  under  the  eye  of  their  mother, 
the  promptness  of  their  obedience. 

The  imagination  of  the  reader  may  easily  supply  the 
details  of  a  considerable  interval  of  time  that  ensued, 
marked  with  no  incident  but  the  rejoicings  of  the  suc 
ceeding  Sabbath,  in  which  the  family  performed  their 
customary  Sabbath  solemnities,  in  an  entire  new  dress 
from  head  to  foot.  This  was  a  silent  joy,  and  a  pride 
inly  felt  ;  for  each  member  of  the  family  knew  too  well 
the  claims  of  self-respect,  to  exult  externally  in  the  dis 
play  of  their  finery.  We  should  have  mentioned,  that 
since  the  death  of  Mr.  Mason,  Sabbath  had  been  in 
this  family,  as  near'y  a  day  of  the  same  kind  of  wor 
ship  as  while  he  lived,  as  die  case  vyould  admit.  It 
was  in  vain,  that  their  neighbours  strolled  by  with  their 
dogs  and  guns,  and  invited  the  boys  ta  share  with  them 
the  pleasure  and  the  profits  of  the  chase.  It  was  in 
vain  that  even  the  women  came  past  the  house  with 
their  angling  iods  to  fish  in  the  neighbouring  creek. 
The  day  had  always  been  in  ihat  family  consecrated  to 
pursuits"  worthy  of  the  hopes  of  immortality,  and  these 
duties,  so  far  from  being  remitted  after  the  head  was 
gone,  were  more  exactly  performed.  The  house  was 
that  day  a  Sabbath-school,  a  place  of  worship,  a  house 
of  instruction  in  sinking,  and  in  training  to  all  the  high 
thoughts  and  holy  feelings  of  religion.  Neither  was  it 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  89 

a  "day  of  gloom.  It  had  long  been  inculcated  on  this 
family,  as  onc^pf  the  first  duties  of  the  Sabbath  to  strive 
in  everjPway  to  render  it  a  pleasant  and  a  cheerful  day 
to  the  children.  Prayers  were  recited,  select  por 
tions  of  the  Scriptures  read,  questions  propounded,  and 
every  duty  seasoned  with  an  air  of  cheerfulness  and  joy. 
The  day  never  passed  away  without  an  affectionate  re 
membrance  of  him,  whose  body  mouldered,  indeed, 
under  the  sycamore  near  them  ;  but  whose  spirit,  the 
mother  told  them,  was,  probably,  permitted  that  day  to 
descend  from  heaven,  and  to  be  invisibly  present  with 
them. 

The   field    wns   planted,   and  the   corn   waved  in  its 
beauty.     The  showers  descended,  and  they  vyere  again 
cheered  with  the  prospects  of  an   ample  harvest.     The 
materials  for  the  labors  of  the  winter  were  prepared,  as 
they  were    matured   for   gathering.     It  was  a  delightful 
employment  to  tend    their  silk-worms.     For  this  season 
they  calculated  upon  little    more,   than    an   experiment. 
But  they  contemplated   with   untiring  eagerness  and  un- 
sated  pleasure  the  manifestations  of  the  astonishing  wis 
dom   and   contrivance  of  Providence   in   the   labors  of 
these  humble  animals.     They  admired  the  beauty  of  the 
little  silken  world,  in  which  they    enclosed   themselves, 
and  sS\v,  in  the  increase  of  their  stock,   and   the  exten 
sion  of  their  labors  another  year,   the    promise  not  only 
of  pleasant  employment,  but  of  adding  to  their  means 
of  support.     There  was  certainly  with  them  every  con 
ceivable  motive  to  industry.     One  of  their  most  impor 
tant  arrangements  was,  after  the  evening  service,  to  set 
tle  the  business  of  the    succeeding  day,   and  parcel  out 
the  amount  of  time,  that  should  be  appropriated  to  each 
duty.     This  appreciation  of  time,'  this  wise  and  settled 
distribution  of  it   beforehand,   redeems  half  a  life.     By 
rising  an  hour  earlier   than   other  people,  and  by  draw 
ing  on  the  evening  for  an  hour  later,   and  by  saving  two 
hours  every  day,  by  having  all  the  employments  of  the 
day,  and  the  length  of  time  to  be   devoted  to  each,  set- 
S* 


90  GEORGE  MA5ON, 

tied  beforehand,  four  hours  every  day  were  gained  upon 
their  most  industrious  neighbours. 

Yet,  with  their  utmost   industry,   the  evils  of-  poverty 
pressed  hard  upon  them.     Their  sugar  and  coffee  were 
soon  expended,   anJ   the  priva;ion  rendered  more  bitter 
by  the  inclination  for   it   having  been  rekindled,  and  the 
habit  renewed    by    this   transient  indulgence.      A  single 
dress    for    each    of   them    only   rendered    the    want   of 
a  change   more  striking  and   painful.     The  doctor's  bill 
and   the  tax  bill  were    presented    anew   with  a  sneering 
remaik,    that  "people   ought  to  pay  their   debts  before 
they    made  themselves  fine.'''     There    were  a    hundred 
other  things  to  which  they,   stinted    as    their  means  had 
been,  had  been  formerly  used,  which  were  necessary  to 
common  com  (bit,  and  the   want  of  which    was  felt  to  be 
sufficiently    galling.      But    poor   people,    that    have  reli 
gion  and  good    sense,    learn   to  bear  many  evils,  and  to 
endure    the    want  oi   many    tilings,  without  envy   or  re 
pining.       The    mother    nightly    inculcated    upon   them, 
thai  it  was  not  only   making   themselves   miserable,  but 
wicked,  to  fret,  and  murmur,  because  others  had  means 
and  comforts  which  they  had  not,   or  to   harbour  angry 
and  revengeful  feelings  towards  even  those  who  despised 
them  on  account  oi' their  poverty. 

The  spring  and  the  summer  passed  away  calmly,  and 
without  other  incidents  than  thote,  every  where  brought 
about  by  the  silent  march  of  time.  The  sun,  the  moon, 
and  stars  kept  their  hours  of  rising  and  rest.  Their 
days  sped  in  noiseless  privacy,  in  these  calm  and  inno 
cent  employments.  Every  day  added  to  the  strength 
of  the  children  and  developed  the  energy,  firmness,  and 
forecast  of  George.  Their  amount  of  silk  was  laid  by 
for  future  winding.  An  abundant  supply  of  the  article 
for  the  manufacture  of  the  coming  winter  was  provided. 
At  this  period  of  hope  and  cheerful  anticipation,  a 
catastrophe  befel  them  of  which  they  had  been  fore 
warned,  but  which  yet  fell  upon  them  like  a  thunder 
stroke.  They  had  been  told,  that  they  must  expect 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  91 

the  sickness  of  acclimation,  called  "  seasoning,"  in  the 
phrase  of  the  country.  They  had  been  too  busy,  too 
much  occupied,  and  too  deep  in  schemes  of  the  iulure, 
to  think  of  sickness,  until  it  came. 

The  corn  had  just  beiiun  lo  whiten  on  the  ears,  and 
the  intense  heats  of  sumiu-er  to  soften  into  the  milder 
temperature  of  autumn,  when,  at  ten  in  the  morning, 
Mrs  Mason  felt  a  chill,  which  compelled  her  to  take 
to  her  bed.  Her  lips  and  her  hands  had  the  customary 
livid  appearance.  She  had  hardly  lain  clown,  before 
the  three  younger  children  came  in  from  the  field,  all 
attacked  in  the  same  way.  The  little  discouraged  trem- 
blers  bestowed  themselves  on  their  beds.  The  spasms 
of  the  chill  in  each  were  most  severe.  From  Madam 
Mason  to  her  youngest  child,  their  teeth  chattered,  and 
a  kind  of  low,  mourning  nuise  accompanied  such  violent 
and  spasmodic  shaking,  as  made  the  cabin  tremble,  and 
their  few  earthern  plates  on  the  shelf,  beside  their  beds, 
were  heard  to  clatter  with  the  united  shudderings. 
Each  one  was  under  the  influence  of  a  delirious  excite 
ment,  like  that  of  opium,  and  the  cry  of"  drink  !  drink!" 
was,  uttered  with  the  eager  earnestness  of  a  traveller, 
expiring  with  thirst,  on  the  parched  sands  of  a  desert. 
In  their  wild  conversations,  it  was  affecting  to  hear  the 
younger  children  call  upon  their  father,  in  such  a  vari 
ety  of  tone  and  supplication,  as  would  have  moved  a 
heart  of  stone.  A  couple  of  hours  passed  in  this  way, 
when  they  dozed  for  a  few  moments,  and  then  aroused 
with  cheeks  crimson  with  fever,  and  another  kind  of 
delirium,  attended  with  new  tones  and  accents  of  dis 
tress.  Eliza  and  George  were  continually  carrying  the 
water-gourds,  first  to  one,  and  then  to  the  other.  The 
patients  -eized  the  vessel  with  a  convulsive  grasp,  and 
held  to  it  so  lorg,  that  one  would  have  thought  they  would 
have  suffocated  by  the  eagerness  and  duration  of  their 
drinking.  This  paroxysm  endured  something,  longer 
than  the  former,  and  when  this  passed,  a  few  moments 
of  agony  succeeded  ;  when  the  sweat  began  to  start, 


92  GEORGE  MASON, 

slowly  at  first,  and  without  much  sensation  of  relief. 
But  soon  it  burst  from  every  pore,  and  dropped  from 
each  particular  tress  of  hair,  as  though  their  solid  flesh 
would  "resolve  into  a  dew."  This  immediately 
brought  calmness  and  relief,  and  a  delightful  languor, 
•which  they  only  know,  who  have  felt  it,  attended  by 
such  soothing  and  tranquillizing  sensations,  as  we  may 
suppose  to  belong  to  the  spirit  of  the  just,  after  the  last 
struggles  of  escape  from  the  prison  of  the  flesh.  But 
though  relieved,  they  were  so  weak,  as  to  be  unable  to 
rise  from  their  beds.  A  thick  fog  rose  above  the  tops 
of  the  trees,  and  the  sun  went  down  in  utter  and  Egyp 
tian  darkness.  What  a  night  for  this  family,  of  which 
two  only  of  the  children  could  walk  f  om  bed  to  bed  of 
the  sick  !  Eliza  was,  as  might  be  expected  from 
her  age  and  sex,  subdued  and  pale  as  death. 
George  felt  that  the  grand  trial  of  his  fortitude  was 
come.  He  repeated  his  grand  maxim,  as  he  kindled 
the  evening  light  ;  told  them  in  the  common  rjroverb, 
u  that  the  darkest  time  in  the  night  was  just  before 
morning;"  talked  with  calmness  of  this  sickness,  as- the 
common  course  of  things  in  the  country;  and  remark 
ed,  that  though  distressing  to  endure,  they  ought  all  to 
be  thankful,  that  it  was  by  no  means  a  dangerous  dis 
order,  and  prophesied  with  deep  .apparent  conviction, 
that  not  only  would  they  all  be  shortly  well  from  this 
"  seasoning,"  but  find  it  to  be  the  harbinger  of  good 
fortune  again. 

Still  he  was  aware,  tlral  in  such  violent  attacks, 
something  must  be  done,  to  arrest  the  fury  of  the  dis 
order.  He  consulted  none  but  his  sister.  He  made 
every  considerable  arrangement,  within  the  limits  of 
their  slender  means,  to  meet  the  renewal  of  the  parox 
ysm,  which,  he  was  aware,  the  patients  must  expect  agah 
•  on  the  morrow;  and  he  was  away  before  the  dawn  in 
the  morning  on  the  road  to  the  river  for  the  doctor. 
There  was  now  no  brother  Henry  to  accompany  him, 
whose  prattle  might  serve  to  beguile  him  on  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  93 

way.  The  day  was  sultry,  and  the  subject  of  his  med 
itations  dreary  and  full  of  gloom.  We  need  not  imagine, 
what  he  thought  and  felt.  Courage  and  affection 
achieve  miracles.  He  reached  the  river  early  in  the 
day.  The  doctor  could  not  accompany  him  back,  but 
promised,  as  is  customary  in  that  climate,  and  at  that 
season,  to  avoid  heat  and  flies,  and  to  save  time,  that 
he  would  start  for  the  sick  family  at  midnight.  George 
was  on  his  return  by  half  after  ten  in  the  morning.  He 
had  already  measured  half  his  distance  home,  when  he 
felt  himself  suddenly  seized  with  a  chill.  So  violent 
was  the  attack,  that  after  walking  t\vo  or  three  minutes 
under  its  endurance,  he  was  obliged  to  stop  and  sit 
down.  Fortunate-ly  the  disease  had  arrested  him  on 
the  bank  of  a  rivulet  and  at  the  ford.  He  crawled  on 
his  hands  and  knees  through  the  mud,  and  reclining 
over  the  water,  drank  as  long  as  he  could  hold  his 
breath.  A  momentary  relief  flashed  an  impulse  of 
courage  through  his  frame,  that  he  should  be  able  to 
resume  his  journey.  He  waded  through  the  ford,  and 
staggered  on  a  few  steps.  All  would  not  do.  Every 
thing  flashed  before  his  eyes,  in  long  and  flaky  streams 
of  green  and  yellow  light,  succeeded  by  darkness.  His 
head  swam,  and  thick  pantings  oppressed  his  bosom. 
The  poor  fellow  fell,  but  fortunately  on  the  moss  at  the 
foot  of  a  sycamore.  It  was  some  minutes  before  he 
returned  to  himself;  and  as  he  felt  as  he  had  never 
felt  before,  and  perceived  that  he  was  covered  with  a 
cold  and  clammy  sweat,  his  first  thought  was,  that  the 
hand  of  death  was  upon  him.  Even  then,  the  noble 
lad  thought  only  of  the  poor  sufferers  at  home,  looking 
in  vain  through  the  evening  and  the  night  for  his  return. 
It  was  Ions;  before  he  could  gather  strength  to  repeat 
his  adage,  and  resume  his  cotirage.  He  settled  himself 
as  comfortably  as  he  could,  on  the  moss,  and  in  a  posi 
tion  as  convenient  as  might  be  to  crawl  to  the  stream. 
It  was  a  thought  sufficiently  gloomy,  it  must  be  admit 
ted,  for  such  a  lad  to  contemplate  his  probable  chance 


GEORGE   MASON, 

of  expiring  there  in  the  woods,  unattended  and  alone, 
and,  perhaps,  be  devoured  by  panthers,  or  wolves,  even 
before  the  death  of  nature  had  taken  place  ;  and  leave 
the  sufferers  at-home  entirely  forlorn.  But  he  said, 
."  Our 'Father,  vvho  art  in  heaven  !  "  and  he  prayed  first 
for  those  at  home,  and  then  for  himself,  and  laid  him 
self  down  to  await  the  disposal  of  Providence.  His 
paroxysm  was  increased  by  his  fatigue,  and  the  want  of 
a  bed,  and  the  comforts,  which  even  his  home  would 
have  afforded.  He  was  afflicted  with  partial  delir 
ium  and  devouring  thirst.  Once  more  he  fainted  in 
his  efforts  to  crawl  up  the  bank,  after  drinking.  It 
seemed'to  him,  indeed,  on  regaining  his  couch  of  moss, 
that  he  must  expire  in  the  woods.  Such  was  his  situ 
ation,  as  .the  dark  night  came  upon  him,  and  the  distant 
howl  of  the  wolves  rung  in  his  ear.  In  the  midst  of  his 
thoughts  within  him,  it  occurred  to  him,  that  at  one  in 
the  night  the  doctor  would  pass  that  way,  and  that,  by 
that  time,  his  fever  would  be  so  far  abated,  as  that  he 
might  be  able  to  ride  home  behind  him.  But  then  it 
would  be  necessary,  that  he  should  remain  awake,  or 
the  doctor  would  pass  him  ignorant  that  he  was 
there.  The  sweat  soon  began  to  flow,  and  he  was 
easy,  languid,  and  his  eyes  SD  heavy,  that  sleep  seemed 
irresistibly  to  weigh  upon  his  eye-lids.  He  attempted 
a  hundred  expedients  to  keep  himself  awake.  An  in 
vincible  drowsiness  pressed  upon  him,  and  nature  levi 
ed  her  tribute.  He  fell  into  a  profound  sleep.  The 
angels  of  Goc}  not  only  guarded  this  pale  and  exhausted 
lad  from  the  wolves,  but  inspired  pleasant  dreams  into 
his  innocent  bosom.  He  fancied  that  he  had  just  ar 
rived  home.  His  mother  and  the  children  were  recov 
ered,  and"  were  about  him  with  kisses  and  caresses. 
Water  seemed  to  be  hande"d  to  him,  and  in  his  eager 
ness  to  grasp  the  gourd,  and  bring  it  to  his  lips,  he 
awoke  himself  from  his  dream,  just  as  he  heard  the  dis 
tant  trampling  of  the  doctor  approaching  on  horseback. 
Jt  might  have  startled  another,  to  have  been  thus  call- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  95 

ed  upon,  as  he  passed,  by  a  feeble  human  voice,  im 
ploring  aid  at  that  hour  and  in  that  place.  But  the  doc 
tor  was  a  man  of  temperament,  such  as  not  to  find  mir 
acles  in  incidents  wide  from  the  commofjf  and  when  he 
learned  thev  state  of  the  case,  it  was  nothing  strange  to 
him,  to  find  a  sick  lad  on  the  way,  who  had  just  passed 
the  paroxysm  of  the  ague.  He  made  some  difficulty 
about  taking  him  up  behind  him,  remarking,  that  he 
seemed  very  comfortably  situated  there,  and  that  he 
could  notify  his  mother,  to  have  him  sent  for  in  the 
morning.  Poor  George  had  to  exert  himself  to  the  ut 
most  to  be  taken  up.  But  he  succeeded  at  length,  and 
was  carried  home. 

Eliza  of  course  had  found  it  necessary  to  instruct  her 
mother,  as  the  fever  returned  upon  the  family  in  the 
morning,  what  was  become  of  George.  I  need 
not  say  how  they  endured  their  severe  fever  thnt  day, 
or  what  they  thought,  when  they  found,  that-  George 
did  not.  return  at  night.  When  he  did  return,  he  found, 
that  Eliza,  towards  night,  had  been  attacked  in  her 
turn,  and  that  the  family  had  suffered  inexpressibly  for 
water.  But  they  were  still  alive,  and  the  -sight  of  him 
and  the  doctor  revived  their  spirits.  Tiie  doctor  pre 
scribed  as  he  thought  the  case  required,  and  I  am  sorry 
to  add,  that  it  appeared  to  him,  to  call  for  cheap  medi 
cines.  He  was  one  of  those  physicians  who  make  most 
exertions  for  those  who  pay  best.  Physicians,  gener 
ally,  are  kind  men,  and  there  are  few,  who  would  have 
left  a  helpless  family  in  the  woods,  will)  the  nearest 
neighbour  distant  two  miles,  and  each  member  so  sick, 
as  to  be  unable  to  go  to  the  spring  and  bring  a  gourd  of 
water  for  the  rest,  without  having  attempted  sn  ar 
rangement,  to  procure  some  one  to  nurse  them.  But 
this  doctor  had  a  thick  head  and  an  unfeeling  heart. 
He  daily  saw  much  misery  and  sickness  of  the  same 
sort,  and  he  thought  very  little  upon  the  scene  before 
him,  except,  that  it  afforded  him  little  immediate  pros 
pect  of  a  bill.  He  thought  in  this  case,  I  rather  imag- 


96  GEORGE  MASON, 

ine,  if  he  thought  at  all  upon  the  subject,  that  men  were 
made  to  be  sick,  take  pills,  and  pay  the  doctor;  and 
as  this  family  could  not  do  the  la'st,  he  felt  it  right  to 
hurry  away  to.  ihe  care  of  some  patients  who  could.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  he  left  the  family,  in  which  no  one  was 
able  to  walk  to  the  spring,  to  shift  for  themselves.  They 
had  all  taken  medicine,  and  this  had  produced  an  exa 
cerbation  of  the  morning  attack.  It  was  distressing  to 
hear  their  groans  during  the  paroxysm,  and  their  inces 
sant  cries  for  drink.  However  Mrs.  Mason  and  George 
might  be  able  to  sustain  the  agony  of  thirst  in  silence, 
it  was  an  effort  of  self-restraint  not  to  be  expected  of 
the  rest. 

For  aught  that  appears,  they  might  all  have  expired 
together,  without  any  relief,  had  not  Providence  in  its 
own  merciful  way,  sent  them  aid.  Their  nearest 
neighbour  had  an  old  slave,  Pompey  by  name,  who  was 
a  melhodist  professor  of  religion,  who  was  really  and  in 
good  earnest  religious,  not  from  stubbornness,  or  laziness, 
as  masters  are  apt  to  charge  their  slaves  with  being,  when 
they  pretend  to  that  thing.  Pompey  had  been  on  an  er 
rand  to  the  river,  and  had  returned  that  way.  Hearing 
the  groans  within,  he  was  induced  to  stop,  and  enter 
the  cabin.  What  a  scene  was  before  him  !  There  was 
none  to  bring  them  water  to  quench  their  burning  thirst. 
His  kind  heart  was  affected.  He  repaired  to  the 
spring,  and  returned  with  a  coupfe  of  gourds  full  of 
water.  He  gave  them  drink.  He  opened  the  shut 
ters  to  ventilate  the  room.  He  cut  green  boughs,  and 
put  in  the  windows,  to  keep  out  the  sun,  and  admit  the 
coolness  of  the  air.  He  grated  the  tender  corn  of  the 
half  ripe  ears,  and  made  them  gruel.  He  made  their 
beds,  and  aided  them  to  change  from  the  one  to  the 
other,  while  he  did  it.  In  short,  he  did  every  thing, 
which  a  diligent  and  affectionate  nurse  could  do,  with 
the  means  of  the  house,  and  then  he  fell  on  his  knees 
beside  their  bed,  and  prayed  with  them.  Nor  was  his 
prayer  less  effectual  in  thy  divine  ear,  or  less  cheering 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  97 

and  consoling  to  the  patients,  because  it  was  uttered  in 
the  broken  accents  of  an  African  dialect.  He  then  sat 
by  them,  and  talked  to  them  in  his  good-natured  and 
affectionate  way,  bidding  them  take  courage,  and  prom 
ising  them,  that  he  would  hurry  home,  and  ask  leave  of 
his  master  to  return  and  watch  with  them.  And  as  he 
was  old,  and  as  he  said,  of  little  account  in  the  field,  he 
had  no  doubt,  that  his  master  would  allow  him  to  come 
back,  and  stay  with  them.  He  added,  "  Me  cure 
heap  people  of  the  ague.  Me  know  six  times  more 
about  him  than  the  doctor.  Me  come  and  cure  you 
all." 

A  solemn  conversation  between  the  mother  and  these 
children  on  their  beds  ensued.  The  two  younger  chil 
dren  were  wild  with  the  delirium  of  fever.  Henry, 
Eliza,  and  the  mother  were  in  utter  despondency,  and 
certainly  few  prospects  on  the  earth  can  be  imagined 
more  gloomy  than  theirs.  The  only  article  in  the  cabin 
for  sustenance  was  corn-meal,  and  the  alternative  be 
fore  them  seemed  only  that  of  perishing  of  sickness,  or 
hunger.  George,  though  the  sickest  of  the  whole,  held 
fast  to  his  grand  maxim.  He  declared  an  undoubting 
confidence,  that  things  would  yet  go  well  with  them. 
He  called  them  to  consider,  how  mercifully  God  had 
dealt  with  them  in  many  respects  already,  From 
their  rich  experience  of  the  Divine  mercy,  in  time  pasfy 
he  called  them  to  take  courage  for  all  the  future. 
None,  but  people  so  situated,  know  what  invigorating 
refreshment  arises,  to  cheer  despondency,  and  banish 
despair*,  from  one  such  firm  and  undoubting  prophet  of 
good. 

In  due  time  Pornpey  came.  The  kind-hearted  and 
considerate  slave  had  looked  deeply  into  their  condi 
tion,  and  had  fully  espied  the  nakedness  of  the  land. 
From  the  stores  of  his  fellow-servants  lie  had  brought  a 
little  sugar  and  tea.  Of  his  master  he  had  begged 
powder  and  shot.  He  killed  squirrels  and  partridges  in 
an  hour's  hunt.  With  these  and  grated  corn  he  pre- 
9 


98  GEORGE  MASON, 

pared  a  nutritive  and  rich  soup.  He  then  went  along 
the  run,  and  gathered  Eupatorium  Perfoliatum,  or 
Thorough  Wort.  He  gave  each  one  a  cup  of  the  in-  . 
fusion  of  those  leaves,  a  grand  remedy  among  the 
the  slaves  in  such  cases,  and  perhaps  the  best  that  can 
be  given.  The  medicine  operated  at  once  powerfully, 
and  gently,  and  'when  the  fever,  and  the  effect  of  the 
medicine  were  passed,  a  devouring  appetite  returned  to 
them.  Nothing  could  be  more  restorative  than  the 
soup  which  Pompey  had  prepared  for  them.  At  nine 
he  made  tea.  Their  fear  and  dejection  were  dispelled, 
as  by  a  charm,  and  the  kind  black  fellow  was  in  the 
midst  of  them,  a  sort  of  ministering  angel,  and  enjoying 
their  thankfulness  and  their  hopes,  with  all  the  sym 
pathy  of  his  affectionate  nature.  He  prayed  with  them 
again  in  the  earnest  language  of  thanksgiving  and  praise, 
and  he  sung  his  own  wild  hymns,  as  a  part  of  the  wor 
ship.  Nor  did  he  take  his  sleep  on  his  blanket  beside 
them  on  the  floor,  until  he  had  ascertained,  that  each 
one  of  his  patients  was  asleep. 

Next  day,  it  is  true,  their  fever  returned,  but  with 
symptoms  of  abated  violence,  and  an  hour  later  in  the 
day.  The  same  medicine,  and  the  same  regimen  were 
repeated  and  with  the  same  effect.  The  period  of 
fever  was  short,  and  the  attack  of  this  day  comparative- 
fy  mild.  The  third  day  of  his  attendance,  instead  of 
the  infusion  of  Thorough  Wort,  he  gave  an  infusion  of 
Dog  Wood,  Wild  Cherry,  and  Yellow  Poplar  bark.  On 
the  fourth  day  nothing  of  their  sickness  remained,  but  a 
kind  of  pleasing  languor,  and  Pompey  pronounced  the 
fever  broken,  assuring  them,  that  all  that  was  now 
necessary,  was  to  use  great  caution  to  prevent  relapse, 
or  in  his  phrase,  "  getting  it  again."  They  were  now 
alt  "able  to  help  each  other.  Leaving  them  materials 
for  soup,  and  killing  them  an  abundance  of  small  wild 
game,  obtained  in  those  woods,  with  but  a  small  effort,  he 
left  them  with  the  tears  and  blessings  of  them  that  were 
ready  to  perish,  as  his  reward.  As  they  shook  hands 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  99 

at  parting,  George  gave  him  his  promise,  if  he  was  ever 
able,  as  he  hoped  one  day  to  be,  to  purchase  him  and 
give  him  his  freedom.  In  a  few  days  the  family  were 
fully  recovered,  and  resumed  their  usual  routine  of 
cheerful  and  religious  occupation  and  industry.  They 
had,  indeed,  incurred  an  additionol  debt  of  twelve  dol 
lars  to  the  leaden-hearted  physician,  who  shortly  let 
them  know  as  much,  by  presenting  his  bill. 


100  GEORGE  MASON, 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Many  a  sin-worn  face 
Was  pale,  and  woman's  sympathetic  tears, 
And  children's  flow'd  ;  and  men's,  who  thought  no  shame 
In  tears. 

THIS  family  had  abundant  reason  to  regard  the  mer 
ciful  interposition  of  Providence,  in  not  imposing  upon 
them  a  double  burden  at  the  same  time,  or  one  greater 
than  they  could  bear.  The  affection  of  Hercules  Pin- 
dall  for  Eliza  still  seemed  to  preponderate  over  his  re 
sentments.  He  was  soothed,  too,  by  learning,  that  the 
family  had  promptly  rejected  similar  proposals  to  his 
made  by  Mr.  Garvin,  in  behalf  of  his  son  Jethro.  A 
coolness  existed  between  those  two  families,  originating 
with  Mr.  Pindall,  and  founded  on  the  presumption, 
manifested  by  his  neighbour,  in  thinking  of  a  movement 
of  that  sort,  in  which  even  he  had  been  unsuccessful. 
From  the  circumstance  of  the  continued  passion  of 
young  Hercules,  or  from  some  cause,  it  happened,  that 
the  dreaded  writ  of  ejection  had  never  yet  issued 
against  their  humble  premises,  and  a  kind  of  doubtful 
truce  seemed  yet  to  be  exercised  towards  the  family, 
which,  it  was  considered  probable,  would  lake  the  form 
of  alliance,  or  war,  according  as  Eliza  and  her  mother 
should  favor,  or  reject  the  suit. 

An  invitation  to  the  whole  family  to  accompany  the 
Pindall  family  to  a  camp-meeting,  distant  twenty  miles 
among  the  hills,  was  urged  with  so  much  earnestness, 
mixed  with  half  threats,  in  case  of  refusal,  that  it  was 
deemed  advisable  to  accept  it.  There  was  less  plea  for 
rejecting'it,  for  now  all  the  family  was  comfortably  and 
decently  clad  from  their  own  means.  They  were  in 
formed,  too,  that  a  separate  carriage  should  be  provided 
for  the  family,  and  all  the  necessary  arrangements  made 
for  its  subsistence,  while  out  on  this  religious  expedi- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN,  //,  101 

tion.  The  idea  of  a  ride  in  the  country  was  pleasant 
to  Mrs.  Mason,  and  delightful  to  the  children,  except 
Eliza ;  so  that,  on  the  whole,  the  day  was  awaited  with 
impatience. 

The  time  of  the   camp-meeting   had  been  appointed 
with  reference  to  the   mild   and  delightful  weather  in 
autumn,  commonly  called  Indian  Summer,  and  happen 
ed  on  a  morning  of  one  of  those  beautiful  days,  when 
the    weather  is  changing  to  coolness,    and    when  the 
leaves  are  in  the  stage  between  verdure  and  the  yellow 
tints  of  approaching  winter.     Hercules  and  his  father 
rode  on  horse-back,  accompanied  by  half  a  dozen  ne 
gro  servants,   and  a  four-horse   baggage-wagon,   loaded 
with  provisions,  and  a  couple  of  tents  ;    and  the  family 
carriage,  in  which  were  Mrs.  Pindall  and  daughter,  and 
Mrs.  Mason,   and   all  her   family.      The   conversation 
that  took  place  in  the  carriage  turned  upon  the  custom 
ary  topics.     Mrs.  Pindall  often  descanted  with  a  moth 
er's  eloquence,  pride,    and  affection   upon  her   darling 
Hercules,   and   without  coming   directly   to    the   point, 
took  care  to  draw  sufficiently  alluring  pictures  of  the  hap 
piness,  that  would  crown  the  wife,  of  whom  he  should 
be  the  husband  ;  and  Mrs.  Mason  expressed  herself  de 
lighted  with  the  romantic  solitudes   on   the  eastern  side 
of  the  Mississippi.     When  they  came   among  the  hills, 
every   thing  was   a   charm  to   the   delighted   children. 
Eliza  was  cheerful,  and  sometimes  made  a  remark,  ac 
companied  by  an   arch  expression   of  the   eye,   which 
told,  what  she  would  have  said,  had  the  company  been 
pleasant,  and  her  heart  light.     Miss  Letitia    found  it  in 
keeping  to  be  romantic,   and   she   talked    over  all   that 
she   could  remember  of  all  the   trumpery   novels,  that 
she  had  read,  and  found   this  one  to  be  "  the  most  de- 
lightfullcst,  and  that  the  most  genteelest,  and  the  other 
the  most  sentimentalist  novel,"  that  she  had  ever  read. 
They  took  their   dinner  under  a  prodigious  yellow  pOp- 
lar,  on  the  margin  of  a  clean  branch,  and  had  claret  and 
coffee,  to  carry  down  the  solid  parts  of  the  repast.     On 
9* 


GEORGE  MASON 


their  arriving  at  the  ground,  Miss  Letitia  insisted,  and 
Mrs.  Mason  gave  a  silent  assent  to  the  remark,  that  this 
had  been  a  most  pleasant  clay. 

Long  before  they  arrived  at  the  place  of  destination, 
they  were  passed  by  multitudes,  on  horseback,  or  in 
various  kinds  of  carriages.  They  passed  multitudes 
on  foot,  some  mothers  carrying  a  babe  in  their  arms, 
and  having  two  or  three  small  children  holding  to  them. 
The  very  woods  seemed  to  be  alive,  and  populous,  and 
the  groves  pouring  forth  their  sequestered  sons  from 
every  side  towards  the  central  point  of  attraction.  The 
place  of  worship  was  in  the  midst  of  a  grove  of  those 
noble  and  beautiful  tulip  trees,  so  natural  to  that  region. 
The  spot  was  a  deep  verdant  bottom-valley.  On  the 
east  and  south  it  was  surrounded  by  high  precipitous 
hills,  faced  with  an  almost  perpendicular  lime-stone  wall, 
in  its  fissures  charmingly  marked  with  prodigious  tossels 
of  the  most  verdant  fern.  A  clear  spring  branch  rolled 
gently  through  it,  sufficiently  broad  and  deep,  to  reflect 
the  trees,  and  the  pillared  clouds  of  the  firmament. 
There  were  the  ambitious  and  wealthy,  because  in  this 
region  opinion  is  all  powerful,  and  they  were  there,  either, 
to  extend  their  influence,  or  that  their  absence  might 
not  be  marked,  to  diminish  it.  Aspirants  for  office 
were  there,  to  electioneer,  and  gain  popularity.  Vast 
.  numbers  were  there,  from  simple  curiosity,  and  merely 
to  enjoy  a  spectacle.  The  young  and  beautiful  were 
there  with  mixed  motives,  which,  perhaps,  it  were  best 
not  severely  to  scrutinize.  Children  were  there,  their 
young  eyes  glistening  with  the  intense  interest  of  eager 
curiosity.  The  middle-aged  fathers  and  mothers  of 
families  were  there,  with  the  sober  views  of  people, 
whose  plans  in  life  were  fixed,  and  calmly  waiting  to 
hear.  Men  and  women  with  hoary  hairs  were  there, 
with  such  thoughts,  it  may  be  hoped,  as  their  years  in 
vited.  Such  was  the  congregation  consisting  of  thou 
sands. 

A  host  of  preachers   of  different  denominations   was 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  103 

there,  some  in  the  earnest  vigor  of  youth,  waiting  an 
opportunity  for  display  ; — others,  who  had  proclaimed 
the  gospel,  as  missionary-pilgrims,  from  the  rem-otest 
north  of  our  vast  country  to  the  shores  of  the  Mexican 
gulf,  and  were  ready  to  utter  the  words,  the  feelings,  and 
the  experience,  which  they  had  treasured  up  in  a  travel 
ling  ministry  of  fifty  years,  and  whose  tones  and  accents, 
trembling  with  age,  still  more  impressively,  than  their 
language,  announced,  that  their  travels,  their  toils,  and 
their  missionary  warfare  was  soon  to  terminate.  Such 
were  the  preachers. 

The  two  families  arrived  about  sunset,  and  were  re 
ceived  with  the  marked  di-tinction,  due  to  the  wealth  and 
importance  of  Mr.  Pindall,  a  distinction,  which,  with 
all  its  characteristic  marks,  has  found  its  way  even  into 
these  woods.  Mrs.  Mason  had  been  accustomed  to 
think  of  a  camp-meeting  with  unpleasant  associations 
of  every  sort.  She  was  therefore  in  a  frame  of  mind, 
peculiarly  fitted  to  receive  the  magic  impression  of  the 
scene  before  her.  Distant  acquaintances  and  friends, 
who  had  not  met  for  years  before,  here  met  again. 
Persons,  who  knew  each  other  only  by  dim  and,  per 
haps,  disfigured  description,  here  met,  and  were  intro 
duced,  and  contemplated  one  another  face  to  face. 
Long  previous  canvassing  of  the  merits  of  the  respec 
tive  preachers  was  here  resumed  again.  The  religious 
were  awaiting  to  hear  that  their  expiring  sentiments 
migbt  be  rekindled  ;  the  witty,  that  they  might  find  sub 
jects  for  their  supposed  wit  and  criticism.  In  fact, 
scarcely  an  element  of  excitement  for  the  human  heart 
can  be  imagined,  that  was  not  here.  Of  course,  the 
interchange  of  apostolic  greetings  and  salutations  among 
the  stricken  in  years,  the  embraces  of  women  and  young 
girls,  the  hearty  recognition  of  young  men  ;  the  eager 
questionings,  how  the  time  had  passed,  and  the  color  of 
the  incidents,  that  had  marked  it,  since  they  had  last 
met ;  the  seeming  vanishment  of  the  chill  indifference  of 
interest  and  ordinary  life,  and  in  its  stead  the  assumption 


104.  GEORGE   MASON, 

of  an  earnestness,  warmth,  and  life,  apparently  belonging 
to  a  more  disinterested  and  warm-hearted  and  sublimed 
race  of  beings  than  men  ; — marked  these  meetings,  and 
seemed  to  indicate,  that  in  coming  here,  they  had  come 
to  a  holier  region,  and  a  new  country,  where  the  air  was 
love,  and  where  every  one  cared,  not  only  for  the  things 
of  himself,  but  also,  for  those  of  his  neighbour. 

Mean  while  a  hundred  negroes,  dressed  in  their  holi 
day  finery,  pitched  the  tents  in  lines  under  the  rustling 
of  the  tulip  trees,  and  just  beside  the  margin  of  the 
stream.  In  the  suburbs  of  this  religious  city,  the  growth 
of  a  few  hours,  there  were  some  tents,  where  the  care 
less,  or  the  irreligious  lingered,  where  cakes,  wine,  and 
refreshments  were  sold,  and  dispensed  ;  and  where  the 
extremes  of  frivolity,  merriment,  and  pleasure  were 
brought  in  direct  contrast  with  those  of  religious  excite 
ment.  Lamps  were  hung  in  lines  among  the  surrounding 
branches,  and  fires,  kindled  with  pitchy  fragments  of 
pine,  blazed  in  front  of  the  tents,  and  diffused  a  glare 
through  the  forests,  and  on  the  sides  and  summits  of  tfae 
hoary  bluffs.  Coffee  and  tea  were  prepared  ;  and  as 
they  sat  down  to  a  religious  supper,  thus  furnished,  and 
transported,  as  they  seemed  to  be,  to  paradise,  even  the 
subdued  heart  of  Mrs.  Mason  swelled  with  tender  re 
membrances  and  undefinable  emotions,  in  which,  how 
ever,  pleasure  and  joy  predominated.  The  hearts  of 
her  children  danced  in  rapture. 

By  the  time  that  their  supper  was  finished,  the  moon, 
broadened  and  purpled  with  the  mists  of  Indian  summer, 
began  to  show  her  calm  orb  above  the  summits  of  the 
bluffs,  and  to  pour  her  pensive  and  religious  light  upon 
the  hills,  the  trees,  and  the  immense  gathering  of  the 
people.  A  few  stars  were  seen  glimmering  through  the 
branches,  and  dancing  in  the  moving  waters  of  the  gen 
tle  stream.  The  whole  scene  was  as  a  temple,  fitted  up 
with  a  magnificence  and  grandeur  worthy  of  a  God. 

"Oh  !  "  said  Eliza,  as  she  pressed  her  mother's  hand, 
il  that  my  dear,  dear  father  were  here  !  How  differently 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


105 


would  he  think  of  a  camp-meeting  !  what  a  glorious 
place  must  be  that  heaven  where  he  will  dwell  for  ever." 
Thirty  preachers  of  all  ages  surrounded  the  "  stand." 
But  the  first  preacher  of  the  evening  was  on  old  man, 
apparently  fourscore,  in  a  dress  of  the  quaintest  simplici 
ty.  As  he  mounted  the  stand,  the  glare  of  the  lights 
upon  the  polished  baldness  of  his  crown,  and  the  thin 
gray  locks  that  time  had  spared,  and  the  furrowed 
wrinkles  of  his  brow,  gave  him  an  aspect  of  fragility 
and  unearthly  elevation  above  flesh  and  blood,  that  pre 
pared  the  hearers  to  be  impressed,  with  what  he  was 
about  to  say.  In  a  voice,  which  was  so  modulated  by 
age,  earnestness,  or  natural  tone,  as  if  it  were  from  a 
being  of  another  sphere,  he  gave  out  that  sweet  hymn, 

"  Thou  shepherd  of  Israel  and  mine, 
Thou  joy  and  desire  of  my  heart,"  &c. 

Instantly  the  voices  of  the  whole  assembled  multitude 
burst  forth  in  an  air,  familiar  to  all  the  people  of  this 
region,  and  as  it  swelled,  and  died  away  among  the 
hills,  and  forests,  and  was  returned  softened  in  the  ech 
oes,  I  should  deem  poorly  of  the  heart,  that  would  not 
have  been  affected,  and  prepared  to  receive  the  full 
impressions  of  religion.  The  hoary  orator  prayed  as 
one  who  felt,  that  he  was  soon  to  be  "  caught  up  ; "  and 
in  his  exhortations  he  spake  deeply  on  a  deep  theme, 
such  as  the  peace  of  those,  who  love  God,  and  have  a 
confidence  that  He  has  forgiven  their  sins  ;  the  misery 
and  the  ruin  of  those  suicide  reprobates,  who  turn  their 
backs  on  God,  and  despise  their  own  mercies,  the  hopes, 
joys,  and  terrors  of  eternity ;  his  own  experiences,  his 
travels,  toils,  and  wanderings,  his  persecutions  and  wel 
comes,  the  many,  that  he  had  seen  in  hope,  in  peace 
and  triumph,  entering  the  "  dark  valley;"  his  determin 
ed  purpose  to  be  diligent  through  his  short  remainder 
of  timo,  his  deep  regrets,  that  the  increasing  burdens 
and  infirmities  of  years  were  taking  from  him  the  power 
to  proclaim  the  mercies  of  his  Saviour ;  the  hope  that 
he  should  meet  at  least  some  of  those  present,  as  his 


106 


GEORGE  MASON, 


trophies,  and  his  crown  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus — 
such  were  the  themes  of  this  aged  servant  of  Jesus 
Christ.  He  had  no  need  of  the  studied  trick  of  orato 
ry,  to  produce  the  deepest  movements  of  the  heart.  He 
was  compelled,  occasionally,  to  pause,  to  dash  the  gath 
ering  tears  from  his  own  eyes.  His  audience,  almost 
as  one  person,  melted  into  tears.  Even  those,  who 
poized  themselves  on  intellectual  superiority,  and  the 
pride  of  a  nobler  insensibility  than  the  crowd,  caught  the 
infectious  tenderness,  and  melted  into  tears,  like  the 
rest,  and  many  scoffers,  "  who  came  to  scoff,  remained 
to'pfay." 

Unhappily  these  scenes  of  high  excitement  are  apt  to 
foster  and  energize  all  kinds  of  sentiments,  as  well  those 
of  the  animal,  as  the  intellectual  nature  ;  and  while  the 
worshippers,  generally,  had  been  rekindling  the  decay 
ing  fires  of  devotion  at  the  altar,  others  had  been  only 
increasing  the  intensity  of  unhallowed  ardors.  Beauty 
is  never  so  lovely,  as  when  lighted  up  with  the  inward 
radiance  of  devotion.  Many  a  person  present  had  re 
marked  Mrs.  Mason  as  the  young  and  lovely  widow; 
for  in  truth,  the  excitement  of  the  scene,  and  the  glow 
of  faith  and  of  hope,  which  it  had  kindled,  had  colored 
her  pale  cheek,  and  had  imparted  a  juvenile  brilliance 
to  her  eye.  What  was  the  effect,  then,  on  Eliza,  by 
the  influence  of  a  new  climate,  prematurely  developing 
into  the  form,  feature,  and  beauty  of  maturity  ?  Poor 
Hercules,  and  Jethro  Garvin,  and  many  others,  had 
felt  to  their  cost  how  much  more  lovely  she  had 
seemed  here,  than  they  had  seen  her  before.  But  the 
sanctity  of  her  manner,  and  the  inspirations  of  the  place, 
had  awed  them  to  silence,  and  had  saved  her  mother 
and  herself  much  pain,  which  they  had  armed  them 
selves  to  endure,  in  hearing  these  swains  talk  of  their 
love  and  constancy.  The  meeting  of  three  days  broke 
up,  and  the  audience  dispersed,  without  an  unpleasant 
incident,  save  that  Hercules  and  Jethro,  on  their  way 
home,  brought  it  to  a  battle,  to  decide  whose  claims  of 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  107 

the  two  should  be  resigned  to  the  other,  in  case  Eliza 
admitted  either.  In  this  case,  Hercules,  like  his  famed 
prototype,  fairly  vanquished  the  monster,  who  assumed 
to  come  between  him  and  his  love,  and  remained  mast 
er  of  the  field,  and  his  pretensions. 

The  father  and  mother  of  Hercules  were  sufficiently 
weary  of  this   hopeless  pursuit   of   a   portionless  child, 
who  had   nothing  but  beauty,  and   were  heartily  desir 
ous,  that   their  son   should   relinquish   the  chase.     But 
the  young  master  inherited    from   his  father  a  sufficient 
portion  of  that  spirit,   wich   is   either  a  great  virtue,  or 
fault,   according,  as   it   is  perseverance,   or    obstinacy. 
He  ceased   not    to    tease  them,   until  they  had    partly 
wearied,  and   partly   intimidated  Mrs.    Mason,   to  give 
her  consent,  to  carry   her  family  to  see  the  next  horse 
race.     As  it  is   a  spectacle,   which   every  body  in  the 
southern  and  south-western  country  attends,  as  it  is  one 
of  their  capital  amusements,    and   a   scene  of  the  next 
degree  of  interest  to   a   camp-meeting,  I   arn    not   un 
willing,  that   the   reader  should    accompany  the  widow 
and  her  orphans  to  a   scene,  which  some  will  think  im 
proper  for  her  to  have  witnessed.     Others  will  view  it, 
as  do  most  of  even  the   religious  people  of  the   south, 
and  will  consider,  that  this  tender   mother  had  constant 
ly  before  her  eyes   the   study,  not  to  break   with  her 
powerful  neighbours ;    the  fear,   that  their  aroused  ven 
geance   might   eject   her   and   her  orphans   from    their 
humble  home,   and   throw   them   upon   the   naked  ele 
ments.     What  do    I   know?     Perhaps   in  the  different 
views  which    mothers  take   of  this  thing,    from    their 
daughters',  she  mused  in  the   recesses  of  her  thoughts, 
that  the  constancy   and  importunity  of  the   young  man 
might  wear  out  the   aversion  of  her   daughter,  and  se 
cure  an  asylum  for  her  and  the  family,  at  least  from  the 
evils  of  poverty.     Whatever  were   the  motive,  she  con 
sented  to  accompany  the  Pindalls  to  the  horse-race. 
,     On  the  appointed  day,  away  gallopped  Hercules  and 
his  young   companions;    and  behind   them   rolled  the 


108  GEORGE  MASON. 

family  carriage,  with  the  family  of  Mrs.  Mason  along 
with  his  mother  and  sister ;  and  still  behind  them,  the 
father  and  his  neighbours  brought  up  the  rear.  It  was 
a  day  of  huzza  and  jubilee,  and  all  parties  seemed  to 
feel,  that  the  subdued  and  silent  spirit  of  the  camp- 
meeting  was  out  of  place.  The  negroes,  that  remained 
behind,  and  those,  who  were  allowed  to  attend  the  race, 
parted  by  singing  in  alternate  divisions,  and  in  their 
loudest  and  merriest,  "  Old  Virginia  never  tire  !  "  Those 
that  remained,  huzzaed  for  Green  Mantle,  and  those 
that  went  for  the  Cedar  Snag.  Even  the  hounds  felt 
the  difference  between  this  occasion  and  the  other,  and 
lifted  up  their  long  and  lantern  jaws,  and  howled  to  a 
merry  key. 

The  place  of  meeting  was  a  beautiful  island-prairie, 
in  the  midst  of  an  immeasurable  extent  of  woods,  as 
level,  and  as  smooth,  as  a  shaven  and  rolled  walk.  In 
fact,  the  "  heat,"  a  narrow  turnpike  of  two  miles,  re 
turning  by  an  elliptical  curve  to  the  goal,  had  been 
shaven,  and  harrowed  down.  Under  the  shade  of 
oaks  and  holly  trees,  covered  with  grape  vines  on  the 
edge  of  this  prairie,  were  raised  galleries,  or  stands, 
about  six  feet  above  the  surface,  of  an  extent,  to  ac 
commodate  all  the  spectators,  that  did  not  choose  to 
remain  on  the  turf.  A  horse-race  assembles  all  the 
beauty  and  youth  arid  gaiety  of  the  southern  country, 
and  here  it  is  seen  arrayed  in  all  its  splendor  and 
charms.  Beside  a  great  number  of  small  races,  that 
would  be  considered  to  be  episodes,  to  take  down  the 
excitement  of  the  chief  one,  there  were  to  be  rnerry 
races  of  asses  and  "  chunks,"  by  persons,  who  volun 
teered,  as  the  fools,  or  Merry-Andrews  of  the  meeting. 
The  capital  race  was  between  the  famous  racers,  Green 
Mantle  and  Cedar  Snag.  The  partisans  of  these 
horses,  and  those,  who. had  staked  high  bets,  wore, 
badges,  the  one  of  green  and  the  other  of  red,  corres- . 
ponding  to  that  of  the  latter  horse.  The  jockeys  and 
riders  were  habited  in  close  silk  dresses,  of  these  re-  ' 


m 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  109 

spective  colors,  with  jockey  caps  to  match.  Such  was 
the  strength  of  feeling  and  of  party  in  the  case,  that 
probably,  with  the  exception  of  Mrs.  Mason's  family, 
there  were  scarcely  any  persons,  male  or  female, 
young  or  old,  black  or  white,  but  what  had  a  bet  de 
pending  on  the  race.  By-bets,  as  they  were  called,  and 
increased  bets,  were  continually  forming,  and  persons 
of  honor  and  grave  presence  for  such  occasions  were 
invoked,  to  attest  the  terms,  and  prescribe  the  forms. 
The  judges  were  enclosed  in  awful  sanctity  from  the 
crowd  by  a  railing.  Long  before  the  race  was  started, 
there 'had  been  a  number  of  fist-fights,  in  which  the 
eyes  of  the  parties  about  to  bet,  were  bunged  up,  that 
their  judgments  might  be  less  diverted  by  visible  ob 
jects  from  a  sagacious  calculation  in  regard  to  the  issue 
of  the  race.  Here  might  be  seen,  a  in  concentrated  form, 
the  readiness  of  the  American  people,  to  form  parties, 
and  to  be  stirred  up  by  the  fury  of  party  spirit.  A 
bully  comes  forward,  and  cries  out,  u  The  Green  Man 
tle  beats  the  field,"  adding  an  oath,  that  I  jhoose  to 
omit.  "  Here  's  my  fist  for  five  dollars,  and  a  fight  for 
Green  Mantle.''  "  Done,"  says  another  ;  "  ten  to  your 
five,  and  here's  at  you."  Upon  the  word,  they  fall  to 
it,  and  fight,  until  one,  or  the  other,  is  hors  du  combat. 
Meanwhile,  at  the  cake  and  grog  stands,  the  matter  is 
debated  by  the  bumpkins  and  boys  and  negroes  and 
yellow  women,  with  as  much  ardor,  as  by  the  planters 
themselves.  At  the  same  lime,  there  are  mock-races 
along  the  sides  of  the  prairies,  between  chunks  and  mules, 
and  blind  horses,  to  the  great  amusement  and  delight  of 
the  rnob  around  them.  The  while,  there  werp  negroes, 
and  awkward  boys,  and  men,  who  were  awnre  that 
they  had  this  sole  chance  for  distinction,  riding  back 
and  forward,  across  the  field,  spurring;,  and  whipping 
their  horses  to  their  utmost  speed,  with  their  clothes 
streaming  away  behind  them,  resembling  militia  aids, 
on  a  muster  day,  or  a  mob  retreating  from  an  army. 
Here,  too,  is  a  place  of  display  for  generous  and  con- 
10 


1  1  0  GEORGE  MASON, 

'siderate  gallantry.  The  young  gentlemen  place  gloves, 
hats,  and  dresses,  as  stakes  for  the  lady  of  their  love, 
to  suspend  upon  the  horse  of  their  choice.  Hercules 
Pindall,  before  the  assembled  crowd,  brought  a  bonnet, 
pair  of  gloves,  and  a  beautiful  peach-blow  Nankin  crape 
dress  pattern,  showing  the  articles  to  Eliza  Mason,  and 
informing  her  that  she  was  elected  by  him,  as  the  lady 
of  his  choice,  to  bet  either  upon  ihe  Green  Mantle,  or 
the  Cedar  Snag,  and  requesting  her  to  choose  between 
them.  At  the  same  time,  he  expressed  a  wish,  that 
she  would  fix  upon  Green  Mantle,  as,  in  his  judgment, 
the  winning  horse.  The  poor  girl,  no  doubt,  wished 
the  tall  Creole  in  the  Red  Sea,  and  pretty  decidedly 
told  him,  that  she  chose  to  be  excused  from  belling  up 
on  either.  But  there  was  a  look  of  such  imploring 
humility  in  the  countenance  of  this  haughty  and  power 
ful  young  heir,  accustomed  to  such  uncontrolled  au 
thority,  (some  say  there  was  even  a  tear  in  his  eye,)  that 
it  may  be  fairly  presumed,  other  motives,  than  an  unwil 
lingness  to  disgrace  him  before  so  many  people,  and 
displease  her  mother,  whose  eye  bade  her  make  a 
choice  and  gain  the  beair.ifiil  articles,  decided  her. 
She  told  him  that  if  custom  required  her  to  choose, 
as  every  one  about  her  told  her  it  did,  she  should  of 
course  choose  the  Green  Mantle,  for  it  seemed  to  her, 
that  it  would,  in  fact,  be  the  winning  horse.  What  a 
powerful  tamer  of  wild  animals  is  love  !  This  young 
hero,  as  unmanageable  by  all  beside,  as  a  mule,  and  as 
farouche,  as  the  French  say,  as  a  dromedary,  all  at 
once  bowed  his  tail  form,  like  a  lily,  cut  by  a  scythe, 
and  went  away  as  subdued,  and  as  sentimental,  as  an 
unfledged  turtle,  took  his  place  on  the  turf,  drew  off  his 
hat,  and  waved  it  three  times  over  his  head,  crying  out, 
"  Green.Mantle  for  ever  !  "  in  good  set  tones,  that  might 
have  been  heard  on  a  still  morning  three  miles. 

Beside  the  purse,  and  the  great  bets,  there  were 
many  by-bets,  many  beaver  hats,  many  pairs  of  boots, 
and  many  fancy  articles  for  the  fair,  pretty  equally  sus- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  Ill 

pended  upon  the  two  horses.  After  an  hour's  prelude, 
in  which  these  matters  were  settled,  and  a  dozen  chunk- 
races  run,  and  a  goodly  number  of  the  spectators  ren 
dered  as  blind  as  Justice,  by  fist-fights,  after  the  judges, 
too,  sitting  in  their  inviolable  conclave,  had  settled  the 
grave  preliminaries  of  the  weights,  and  every  thing  that 
appertained  to  the  riders,  and  what  should  constitute  a 
"  balk,"  what  "  flying  the  truck,"  and  what  amount  of 
advance  should  be  adjudged  decisive  of  victory  ;  the 
jockeys  brought  their  horses,  in  their  appropriate  trap 
pings,  to  the  goal.  The  judges  issued  the  cry,  "  Clear 
the  field  !  "  Away  scamper  chunks,  donkeys,  mules, 
and  negroes,  and  the  audience  is  as  still,  as  death.  The 
horses  are  brought  with  their  breasts  against  a  line.  It 
is  astonishing,  and  to  me  it  is  absolutely  painful,  to  see 
to  what  an  extent  these  noble  animals  catch  the  enthu 
siasm  and  the  excitement  of  the  spectators.  You  may 
see  it  in  their  eye,  You  may  see  it  in  t'heir  bodies, 
painfully  stretched,  and  prepared  for  the  leap.  You 
may  see  their  trembling  impatience  in  the  spasmodic 
movement  of  all  their  muscles.  You  may  see  it  in  the 
swelling  of  their  veins,  and  the  expansion  of  their  nos 
trils.  The  two  senior  judges,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
truck,  withdrew  the  string,  dropped  a  hat,  and  cried, 
"  Go  !  "  Away  sprang  the  horses,  and  no  one,  who  has 
not  seen  a  rare,  can  imagine  the  enthusiasm  of  the  mo 
ment.  Mingled  cries,  shouts,  and  I  wish  I  was  not 
obliged  to  add,  oaths,  in  treble,  tenor,  and  bass,  in  re 
peated  bursts  of  acclamation,  rose  to  the  sky.  "  God 
bless  the  pretty  soul  of  Green  Mantle,"  shouted  some 
ladies.  "  God  bless  the  noble  heart  of  Cedar  Snag," 
shouted  others,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  trace 
these  lines,  the  horses  had  reached  the  extremity  of 
the  ellipse,  and  were  on  the  return.  The  cunning  rider 
of  Green  Mantle,  immediately  measuring  the  compara 
tive  speed  of  his  horse,  gently  reined  him  in,  and  amidst 
deafening  cries  of  "  Cedar  Snag  and  Carolina  against 
all  the  world  !  "  that  horse  had  gained  of  the  other  half 


GEORGE  MASON, 

a  length.  "  Double  the  bet  for  Cedar  Snag  !  "  was 
the  cry,  and  poor  Eliza,  whether  for  Hercules  or  the 
peach -blow  crape,  or  other  cause,  I  say  not ;  but,  clear 
ly,  she  was  sorry,  to  see  Green  Mantle  dropping  astern. 
But,  exactly  at  the  right  time,  the  jockey  rider  of  this 
horse  gives  him  the  rein,  a  cheer,  and  a  gentle  switch, 
and  the  noble  horse  stretches  himself  almost  to  the 
earth.  In  an  instant  he  gains  on  Cedar  Snag.  The 
spectators  now  comprehend  the  movement.  The  dumb 
founded  partisans  of  Green  Mantle  throw  up  their  hats, 
rend  the  air,  and  shout,  "  Huzza  for  Green  Mantle  and 
Old  Virginia  !  "  By  this  time  the  cheek  of  Eliza  and 
her  mother  is  colored  with  eagerness.  With  the  cries, 
"  Green  Mantle  !  Cedar  Snag  !  Virginia  !  Carolina  !  " 
and  the  names  of  the  betting  ladies,  and  oaths,  shouts, 
and  exclamations,  until  the  parties  are  hoarse,  Green 
Mantle  advances  a  full  length  before  the  other  to 
the  goal. 

After  the  shouting  and  enthusiasm  of  the  partisans  of 
Green  Mantle  had  been  allowed  time  to  subside,  came 
on  the  important  business  of  settling  the  bets.  The  de 
cision  of  the  judges  was  clear,  and  irrevocable,  and  the 
bets  were- paid,  in  general,  without  a  murmur,  for  it  is 
deemed  mean  and  unworthy,  to  question  the  decision, 
or  to  show  any  backwardness,  either  in  paying,  or  ad 
mitting  the  victory  to  be  a  fair  one.  Here,  too,  we  see 
the  genuine  obstinacy  of  American  perseverance  in 
party  feeling.  The  trials  of  speed  had  been  as  fair,  as 
could  be  imagined.  Neither  horse  balked,  or  flew  the 
truck,  and  without  some  palpable  mistake  of  the  horse, 
or  the  rider,  this  trial  'might  be  considered  a  fair  and 
unvarying  criterion,  of  what  would  take  place  in  a  hun 
dred  subsequent  similar  trials.  Not  so  thought  or  said 
the  partisans  of  Cedar  Snag.  Both  parties  baffled 
learnedly  about  heels,  wind,  and  bottom,  and  the  losers 
found  out  some  mistake,  either  in  the  training,  or  rid 
ing  of  their  favorite  horse,  which,  they  were  confident, 
another  trial  would  rectify,  and  thus  produce  a  differ- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  113 

ent  result.     "  Here,"  say  they,   "  is  my  fist  for  double 
the  bet  on  another  trial."     Well  said  Hudibras, 

"  Convince  a  man  against  his  will,"  &c. 

When  Hercules  came  forward  with  the  beautiful 
dress,  to  offer  it  to  Eliza,  it  was  done  with  so  much 
visible  satisfaction  in  her  success  and  pleasure  in  offer 
ing  it  to  her,  tempered  with  so  much  humility  and  a 
manner  so  different  from  bis  usual  proud  and  saucy 
bearing,  that  I  am  not  sure,  had  he  been  a  little  more 
polished,  and  she  a  few  years  older,  but  some  touch  of 
pity  and  tenderness  would  have  mingled  with  her  ac 
ceptance.  As  it  was,  there  was  something  so  near  like 
relenting,  in  the  eye  and  manner  of  Eliza,  that  the 
young  man  went  off  as  happy,  as  a  prince,  treasuring 
the  kind  look  in  his  memory,  and  growing  as  proud 
upon  it,  as  if  he  had  vanquished  her  young  heart  as 
completely,  as  he  had  the  authority  of  his  parents. 
Poor  young  man  !  Before  the  carriage  set  off  with 
Mrs.  Mason  for  her  cabin,  he  took  occasion  to  renew 
his  suit,  in  such  earnest  and  assured  terms,  that  both 
the  mother  and  daughter  were  obliged  once  more  to 
cut  off  his  hopes,  and  leave  him  as  much  in  despon 
dency  and  dudgeon  as  before. 

I  have  said  nothing  of  the  extacy  of  the  children  in 
the  enjoyment  of  the  race.  It  is  of  all  others  the  show, 
that  seizes  most  strongly  upon  the  affections  of  their 
years.  George,  in  truth,  had  been  too  deeply  occu 
pied  with  the  examination  of  Hercules,  and  his  bearing 
towards  his  sister,  on  the  occasion  to  enjoy  it.  But  for 
the  rest,  they  chattered  about  the  race  all  the  way 
home,  and  more  than  once  sprang  up  from  their  mat- 
trasses  by  night,  shouting,  "  Green  Mantle,  for  ever  !  " 
in  their  sleep. 

But  I  find  myself  entering  too  minutely  into  the  for 
tunes  of  this  family,  and  1  must  hasten  to  follow  the 
thread  of  events  by  a  more  general  outline.  For  a 
considerable  time,  too,  there  does  not  appear  any  strik 
ing  incident  in  their  course.  I  may  only  say,  that  the 


114 

web  of  their  life,  the  while,  was  of  mingled  yarn,  as 
falls  to  the  common  lot  of  mortals.  Their  scheme  of 
silk-making  had  not  been  pursued  to  an  extent,  to  yield 
much  beyond  amusement  ;  though  it  was  completely 
successful,  as  far  as  it  went.  They  labored  incessantly 
at  their  occupation  of  making  hats  and  bonnets.  But 
it  was  not  always,  that  George  was  so  successful  in  his 
sales,  as  he  had  been  at  first.  Eliza  had  plied  her 
spinning-wheel,  with  cotton  of  their  own  raising.  But 
the  evils  of  poverty  continued  to  press  upon  them-  The 
love  of  Hercules  seemed  fast  verging  towards  revenge. 
When  he  had  first  thought  of  wooing  a  girl,  who  had 
nothing  but  beauty,  the  parents  had  considered  it,  and  he 
had  considered  it,  graciousness  and  condescension. 
When  it  was  perceived,  that  after  the  pursuit  of  a  year, 
in  which  she  had  become  turned  of  fourteen,  and  as  beau 
tiful  as  May,  after  the  mother  and  daughter  had  received 
such  magnificent  presents,  still  no  real  progress  was  made 
towards  success,  and  that  the  mother  and  daughter  still 
shrunk  from  the  alliance,  the  parents  began  to  talk  again 
of  the  law-suit,  and  the  writ  of  ejectment,  Hercules  had 
ventured  once  to  solicit  the  interference  of  George  on 
the  s'ibject.  But  the  tall  and  powerful  young  man  abso 
lutely  quailed  under  the  flashing  of  the  eye  of  this  poor 
orphan  lad,  and  he  never  cared  to  resume  the  subject 
again.  The  people,  generally,  in  the  settlement,  con 
sidered  this  as  another  proof  of  the  foolish  and  insolent 
pride  of  the  family,  and  passed  many  a  bitter  remark 
upon  this  fancied  union  of  poverty  and  ambition.  These 
circumstances  operated,  as  a  new  and  complete  cause 
of  severance  between  them  and  their  neighbours,  and 
days  often  passed  without  their  speaking  with  a  single 
human  being,  except  those  of  their  own  number. 

Mrs.  Mason  and  iier  daughter,  though  they  could  be 
fine,  wanted  the  plain  and  common  articles  of  comfort 
able  clothing.  The  boys  were  only  dressed  to  the  point 
of  the  plainest  decency,  while  a  small  payment  of  the 
taxes  and  the  doctor's  bill  was  made,  and  a  trifle  reserv- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  115 

ed  to  aid  in  carrying  on  the  law-suit  with  Mr.  Pindall, 
whenever  he  should  commence  it.  No  part  of  these 
privations  weighed  so  heavily  on  the  spirits  of  George 
and  his  mother,  as  the  necessity  of  such  unremitting 
labor,  imposed  upon  them  all,  as  left  them  neither 
time,  nor  opportunity  for  the  instruction  and  education 
of  the  younger  children.  The  progress  of  George  and 
Eliza  had  been  respectable,  during  the  life  of  their 
father,  who  had  devoted  his  whole  heart  to  this  task, 
and  who  had  found  in  them  uncommon  docility.  But 
it  went  to  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Mason,  to  see  her  younger 
children  growing  up  in  the  woods,  as  ignorant,  and  un 
disciplined,  "  as  the  ivild  ass's  colt."  Some  more  en 
larged  niid  efficient  plan  had  occurred  to  the  scheming 
mind  of  George  a  thousand  limes,  to  remedy  ihis'*and 
various  oilier  •  evils  of  their  condition.  His  rising 
thoughts  and  -purposes  spurned  the  idea  of  his  vegetat 
ing  his  whole  life  in  the  forest.  Nor  could  he  endure 
the  idea,  that  the  beauty  and  sweetness  of  Eliza  should 
never  he  contemplated  by  any  other,  than  such,  as  the 
Pinclalls  and  Garvins.  But  to  go  abroad,  for  his  plans 
always  terminated  in  the  necessity  of  this,  and  to  leave 
his  mother  and  the  desolate  and  dear  ones,  to  whom 
his  dying  father  had  confided  the  charge,  like  lambs 
in  the  wilderness; — this,  too,  was  an  idea,  from  which 
he  recoiled.  Yet  he  always  said  to  himself,  that  it 
was  better  to  inflict  on  them  and  himself  a  lesser  evil 
for  the  sake  of  a  greater  good  ;  and  that  he  ought  to 
give  them  and  himself  the  pain  of  leaving  them,  for  a 
time,  in  order  to  fix  ihem  and  himself  in  a  position, 
where  they  could  remain  permanently  together.  His 
friend,  the  post-master  of  the  village,  had  often  con 
versed  with  him  on  the  subject.  He  was  extensively 
acquainted  with  the  captains  of  the  steam-boats,  that 
traded  on  the  Ohio  and  the  Upper  Mississippi.  He 
recommended  to  George  the  place  of  clerk  on  one  of 
these,  as  one.  for  which  lie  thought  him,  as  he  said, 
peculiarly  qualified,  by  his  being  uncommonly  ready  at 


116  GEORGE  MASON, 

figures,  and  his  writing  a  hand  of  remarkable  beauty* 
Whenever  George  named  his  scruples,  he  resolutely, 
and  successfully  combatted  them,  proving  to  him,  that 
he  was  ruining  his  own  prospects,  as  well  as  those  of 
his  family,  by  remaining  there  in  ignorance  in  the 
woods,  and  in  pursuits,  which,  however  industriously 
followed,  would  never  procure  an  adequate  maintenance 
for  the  family. 

The    idea    of  leaving  his    mother,    sister,    and   the 
young  children  alone,   and   unprotected,  was   a   gloomy 
one  to   his  affectionate    heart.     But  in  turning  over  the 
subject,  and  taking  a  view  of  every  side  of  it,  it  occur 
red  to  him,  that    it    was   a   part  of  the    duty   of   mental 
firmness,  to  take  such   measures,    as    were  most  for  his 
advantage  and  theirs,  even  did    they   involve  the  neces 
sity  and   the  pain   of  a  separation.     This  deep  attach 
ment  to  home,  identified  with  a  sense  of  duty,   and  as 
sociated  with  the  feeling  of  homesickness,  was  the  most 
formidable  determent  from  his  project.     Once  or  twice 
in  their  evening  conversations,  lie   had    ventured  to  hint 
the  thought  of  the   post-master   in  the  family.     It  must 
be  allowed,  that  his  mother  had  already  revolved  in  her 
own   mind   the  possibility  of  such  an  event.     She  had 
even  allowed  herself  to  contemplate  the  subject  with  so 
much  steadiness  of  vision,   as   to   see,   that  it  would  be 
for  his  interest,  and  of  course  her  duty,  to  consent  to  it. 
But  whenever   she  viewed   the    prospect   near  at  hand, 
she  instinctively  shrunk   from   it,   and   closed  her  eyes 
upon   it,   as  children   do   upon   the  terrific   notion  of  a 
phantom  in  the  dark.     At  first,   when    she  discovered, 
that  he   was  actually    thinking  of  leaving    home,    she 
burst  into  tears,  and  affected  to  see  in  this  purpose  the 
extinction  of  filial   affection,  and  a  hardness  of  heart, 
which  cared  not  for  her  and   the  other  children,  and  a 
selfishness,  which  regarded  only  his  own  ease  and  com 
fort,    and    his    own    vagabond     projects    of    wandering 
abroad.     George   prudently   waited   until  the   storm  of 
wounded  affection  had   passed  away,   and  meekly  ex- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 

pressing  a  hope,  that  she  would  review  the  case,  and 
think  more  favorably  of  it  another  time,  he  withdrew. 

The  next  time  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  same 
subject,  she  viewed  it  more  calmly,  and  rather  in  sor 
row  than  in  anger.  For  in  truth,  she  had  reviewed  the 
subject,  when  alone,  and  her  conscience  had  reproach 
ed  her,  for  this  indulgence  of  anger  and  invective,  in 
regard  to  her  son.  She  had  deeply  and  religiously 
meditated  her  duties,  had  considered,  that,  however  her 
own  selfish  affections  might  wish  to  detain  him,  she 
must  be  convinced,  that  he  could  do  much  more  for 
the  family  in  such  pursuits  as  were  proposed  to  him, 
than  he  could  at  home,  that  it  would  enable  him  to  see 
the  world,  and  form  his  character,  and  that  she  ought 
to  struggle  to  triumph  over  the  selfish  considerations, 
that  operate  with  so  many  mothers  to  the  ruin  of  their 
children.  In  the  second  conversation  which  they  held 
upon  the  subject,  she  consented  to  his  project,  and  only 
requested  time  to  prepare  her  mind  for  the  separation. 

Not  many  days  afterr  George  received  a  letter  from 
the  post-master,  informing  him,  that  a  most  fovorable 
opportunity  offered,  for  his  obtaining  u  clerkship  on 
board  of  one  of  the  capital  steam-boats.  The  terms 
were  thirty  dollars  a  month.  This  excellent  man  offer 
ed  him,  in  consideration  of  the  wants  of  the  family,  and 
the  diminution  of  its  means,  in  his  leaving  it,  to  advance 
twenty  dollars,  on  the  prospect  of  his  wages,  to  expend 
in  articles  for  its  comfort.  When  he  read  the  letter  to 
his  mother,  it  was,  after  all  her  good  resolutions,  as  if 
an  ice-bolt  had  gone  to  her  heart.  But  she  remember 
ed  her  duly.  She  begged  him  and  the  children  to  re 
tire.  It  was  breaking  open  the  unhealed  wound,  occa 
sioned  by  her  husband's  death,  and  she  wept,  as  a  trib 
ute  to  feeble  human  nature.  She  then  prayed,  and 
wrestled  hard  with  God  for  resignation.  This  is  the 
way  to  settle  high  and  good  purposes.  "When  George 
and  the  children  returned,  she  was  calm,  and  the  mat 
ter  was  at  rest  in  her  mind.  She  told  him,  that  she  not 


118 


riEORGE  MASON, 


only  consented  to  his  going,  but  considered  it  the  best 
thing  he  could  do. 

The  heart  of  George  was  relieved.  It  seemed  to 
him  impossible,  that  he  could  ever  have  forsaken  the 
cabin,  unless  she  had  so  expressed  herself.  He  hur 
ried  to  the  river,  saw,  and  thanked  his  friend,  and  was 
by  him  conducted  on  board  the  steam-boat,  which  was 
about  to  ascend  the  Ohio,  and  would  return  in  a  few 
days.  The  captain  was  pleased  with  him,  and  he  was 
reciprocally  pleased  with  the  captain  and  his  prospects  ; 
and  the  bargain  was  settled,  and  he  was  to  be  on  the 
bank,  when  the  boat  returned,  to  take  his  place  on  board 
of  her.  We  are  swayed  to  our  best  actions  in  many 
instances  by  some  little  obliquity  of  motive.  It  must 
be  allowed,  that  when  George  saw  the  noble  steam 
boat  sweep  away  up  the  stream,  she  carried  a  portion 
of  his  heart  off  with  her.  It  must  be  admitied,  that  a 
spice  of  roving  disposition,  inherited  from  his  father, 
had  its  share  in  overcoming  his  reluctance  to  leave  his 
mother  and  his  home. 

It  is  not  material  to  relate  all  the  conversations, 
which  ensued,  between  this  engagement  and  the  time 
of  his  departure,  between  him  and  the  different  mem 
bers  of  the  family.  He  was  the  only  one  of  their  num 
ber,  that  had  yet  developed  strength  of  character,  and 
the  mother  and  the  children  leaned  upon  him  not  only 
for  support,  but  to  resolve  their  doubts,  and  settle  their 
purposes,  and  decide  their  plans,  and  sustain  their 
mental  indecision.  Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Mason  had  faith 
fully  inve-stigoted,  by  all  the  means  in  her  power,  the 
dangers  of  the  river,  and  had  heard  of  every  accident, 
in  all  its  exaggerations,  that  had  ever  happened  to  a 
steam-boat  on  the  Mississippi,  or  Ohio.  She  learned 
all,  that  she  could  gather  about  storms,  and  snags,  and 
more  than  all,  the  dreadful  death  of  scalding  by  the 
bursting  of  the  boiler. 

Neither  was  George  idle  on  his  part.  He  had  ex 
pended  the  advanced  twenty  dollars  for  the  comfort  of 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  1  1  9 

the  family,  during  his  absence.  Henry  had  come  suf 
ficiently  of  age,  to  take  his  place  in  the  charge  of  the 
field,  and  Uie  stewardship  of  their  little  concern  of  silk,  and 
bonnet  manufacture,  and  their  other  humble  affairs. 
Many  and  solemn  charges  did  he  give  him.  The  main 
points  were  reduced  to  writing,  that  they  might  not  be 
forgotten,  when  he  was  gone.  It  was  an  affecting 
charge  on  both  hands,  and  when  Henry  received  this 
solemn  responsibility,  he  gave  a  promise,  as  solemn, 
that  he  would  strive  faithfully  to  discharge  its  duties. 

It  is  painful  to  me  to  remember  the  distress  of  the 
family,  when  the  day  of  separation  actually  came. 
But,  like  every  event  borne  on  the  wings  of  time,  it  did 
come.  They  recited  their  prayers  for  the  last  time'to- 
gether.  They  mingled  their  voices  for  the  last  time  in 
the  song  of  evening  praise.  The  last  evening  of  tender 
and  solemn  conversations  passed  away.  The  last 
promises  of  affection,  remembrance,  and  prayer  for 
each  other  were  made.  They  parted  over -night,  and 
according  to  arrangement,  long  before  the  sun  rose,  he 
was  gone.  In  the  morning  his  place  at  table  was  emp 
ty  ;  and  the  mother,  and  the  forlorn  young  ones  walked 
about,  dreaming,  and  silent,  and  in  stupefaction,  not  un 
like  that,  which  followed  the  death  of  Mr.  Mason. 

George  was  turned  of  eighteen,  when  he  was  thus 
thrown  upon  the  world.  He  was  dressed  in  the  most 
plain  and  quaker-like  style.  A  small  handkerchief- 
bundle  contained  his  clothes  and  a  bible.  Beneath  his 
humble  dress  beat  a  heart,  at  once  stout,  and  affection 
ate  ;  and  these  constituted  all  his  baggage.  As  I  have 
remarked,  he  stole  away  before  the  family  had  risen  in 
the  morning,  to  avoid  the  agony  of  those  partings,  which 
make  such  a  distressing  part  of  such  a  separation.  The 
deepest  emotions,  that  are  excited  on  such  occasions, 
are  not  those,  that  show  themselves  in  words  or  tears. 
When  he  had  taken  the  last  look  of  mother,  sister,  and 
brothers,  and  the  humble  cabin,  which  together  made 
that  dear  and  sacred  word  home,  a  word  which 


1 20  GEORGE  MASON, 

means  more  to  a  good  mind  and  heart,  than  almost  any 
other!  in  our  language,  he  turned  round,  before  he 
crossed  the  stile  that  led  out  of  the  field,  and  gave  the 
dear  spot  the  benediction,  that  rose  to  the  Almighty 
from  a  pious  child,  an  affectionate  brother,  and  an  un 
polluted  nature.  "God  keep  you,"  said  he,  u  and 
watch  over  your  innocent  slumbers.  For  me,  though 
now  a  wanderer  in  the  wild  world,  I  will  think  of  you, 
and  the  thought  shall  be  as  a  talisman,  to  shield  me 
against  tempation.  I  will  think  of  the  pale  face  of  my 
mother.  I  will  think  of  the  last  look  of  my  father.  I 
will  think  of  my  sweet  sister,  and  the  dear  young  ones." 
I  consider  such  reflections,  as  the  best  possible  security 
against  temptation  to  degradation  and  vice,  that  a  young 
man  can  possess.  Such  thoughts  must  be  expunged 
from  the  mind,  before  he  can  be  led  widely  astray. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  121 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Mark  now,  emerging  from  yon  verdant  point, 
The  steam-boat  gay,  tracing  her  path  in  foam, 
Emitting  high  above  the  trees  her  smoke. 

He  arrived  at  the  landing,  met  the  steam-boat,  closed 
the  contract  with  the  captain,  and  found  the  tender 
thoughts  of  home  and  parting  partially  erased  by  occu 
pations,  as  different  from  his  former  pursuits,  as  can  be 
imagined.  Instead  of  the  silence  and  seclusion  of  a 
small  clearing  in  the  forest,  instead  of  the  loved  and 
infantine  voices  of  his  brothers,  and  the  silver  tones  of 
his  mother  and  sister,  he  is  in  the  midst  of  a  confusion 
of  sounds,  which  could  scarcely  be  paralleled  in  Babel. 
Above,  below,  around  is  the  incessant  babble  of  human 
voices.  Oaths,  catches  of  songs,  reckless  laughter,  the 
prattle  of  a  score  of  ladies,  incessant  beating  upon  a 
piano,  the  roaring  of  the  furnace,  the  sharp  and  horrid 
hissing  of  the  steam,  the  eternal  pounding  of  the  ma 
chinery,  the  unceasing  dashing  of  the  wheels  in  the  wa 
ter,  the  bustle  of  the  fire-men,  the  boat-men,  and  the 
deck  passengers — all  this,  rendered  more  impressive  by 
immediate  contrast  with  the  silence  of  the  woods,  is 
now  continually  in  his  ears  and  before  his  eyes.  Long 
habit  has  rendered  these  sounds  familiar  to  me,  and  his 
ear  too  became,  after  a  while,  accustomed  to  them. 
But  he  never  paused  to  think  of  such  an  immense  ma 
chine,  borne  so  majestically  down  the  Mississippi  forests, 
but  what  this  impressive  manifestation  of  the  triumph 
of  art  over  nature,  struck  him  with  a  feeling  of  sublimi 
ty  and  profound  respect  for  the  powers  of  the  human 
mind. 

But  he  was  the  same   person  in-  the  silence  of  his 

woods,  and   in  the  midst  of  this  new  and  most  singular 

form  of  society.     In  this  place  the  repulsiveness  of  vice 

kept  him  as  firmly  in  the  habits  of  virtue,  as  the  absence 

11 


1  22  GEORGE  MASON, 

of  temptation,  reflection,  and  right  views  of  things  had 
at  home.  He  was  never  out  of  temper,  but  always 
calm  and  collected.  With  all  the  wayward  spirits, 
with  which  he  had  to  deal,  he  still  possessed  the  in 
calculable  advantage  of  retaining  entire  possession  of 
himself.  The  consequence  was  such,  as  self-control, 
good  judgment,  right  principles,  and  correct  deportment 
seldom  fail  to  produce.  He  grew  rapidly  in  the  es 
teem  of  the  captain  and  crew,  and  almost  invariably 
secured  the  good  will  of  the  passengers.  Among  the 
most  dissipated  people,  and  in  the  midst  of  lax  and 
even  corrupt  societies,  sobriety,  good  morals,  good  fee 
lings,  and  good  principles  are  invariably  respected. 
Young  men  are  apt  to  make  ruinous  mistakes  upon  this 
subject  and  to  think  that  the  abandoned  best  love  those, 
who  are  most  like  themselves.  Virtue  levies  every  where 
her  proper  dues  of  homage  from  vice. 

The  accounts  of  the  boat  were  kept  in  the  most  per 
fect  order.  The  most  contentious,  dishonest,  and  even 
intemperate  found  his  book  so  clear,  his  representations 
so  unanswerable,  his  feelings  so  under  command,  and 
his  firmness  and  moderation  so  unalterable,  that  no  such 
difficulties,  as  disputes,  occurred.  By  a  kind  of  intuition 
he  comprehended  the  sharpers,  vagabonds,  and  gamblers, 
that,  under  the  appearance  of  gentlemen,  are  occasion 
ally  seen  in  such  places.  He  always  had  these  people 
manageable,  and  at  arms  length.  They  were  scarcely 
allowed  a  chance  to  go  in  debt  beyond  their  means  of 
paying,  or  impose  upon  the  unsuspecting  passengers, 
without  a  warning  from  him,  sufficient  to  enlighten  them 
without  in  any  way  committing  himself.  This  calm 
ness  of  manner,  this  discriminating  judgment,  exer 
cised  with  suavity  and  good  feeling,  soon  obtained  for 
him  the  same  influence  among  the  rough  people  on  deck, 
as  he  possessed  in  the  cabin.  Of  course,  when  the  pas 
sengers  were  discharged  at  New-Orleans,  the  number 
of  his  friends  might  almost  be  said  to  equal  that  of  the 
passengers. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  123 

Many  of  the  circumstances  of  these  new  and  strange 
modes  of  life  were  positively  painful,  and  that  in  no 
small  degree.  There  were  others,  that  so  long  as  they 
retained  the  charm  of  novelty,  were  delightful.  He 
never  wearied  in  contemplating  the  noble  river.  When 
he  sat  on  deck  in  his  night-watch,  and  every  thing  on 
board  the  boat,  that  had  life  was  still,  but  the  fire-men — 
it  was  a  spectacle,  that  filled  his  whole  mind,  to  see  the 
great  and  powerful  vehicle,  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
borne  down  with  such  rapidity  and  force,  between  the 
dim  and  misty  outlines  of  the  forest,  on  either  hand. 
By  day  the  verdant  banks,  the  ever  varying  scenery, 
the  ambrosial  fragrance  of  the  willow-skirted  shores, 
the  cries  of  the  water-fowls,  wheeling  their  courses 
over-head,  were  circumstances  of  delightful  contem 
plation  to  a  musing  mind,  like  his.  The  variety  of 
characters  on  board,  the  different  opinions,  tempers,  and 
passions,  developed  by  the  incidents  and  conversations 
on  the  trip,  were  a  constant  study  to  him.  Books,  too, 
were  accessible.  The  boat  itself  carried  a  considerable 
library.  Most  of  the  passengers  had  a  select  assortment 
of  books,  and  I  hardly  need  add  of  such  a  character, 
that  every  moment  of  his  time,  that  was  not  necessarily 
devoted  to  the  duties  of  his  employment,  and  the  occa 
sions  of  food  and  sleep,  was  occupied  either  with  read 
ing,  or  the  intense  study  of  the  ever  open  book  of  hu 
man  life  before  him. 

The  crowded  and  bustling  city  of  New-Orleans  pre 
sented  a  new  page  of  the  great  volume  of  human 
nature.  He  saw  himself  amidst  a  moving  mass  of  life, 
of  people  of  all  nations,  languages,  and  manners.  When 
borne  along  with  the  tide,  and  seeing  among  the  hun 
dreds,  that  surrounded  him,  not  an  individual  who  knew 
him,  or  cared  for  him,  or  was  connected  with  him  in  any 
other  way,  than  as  being  a  common  heir  of  mortality, 
then  it  was,  that  a  sense  of  loneliness  and  home-sickness 
pressed  upon  him.  Then  it  was,  that  the  comparison 
of  this  world  of  strangers,  that  seemed  in  his  eye  al- 


124  GEORGE  MASON, 

most  like  foes,  forced  upon  him  a  contrast  of  it  with 
that  dear  little  world,  which  was  engraven,  like  the  lines 
of  a  map,  upon  his  heart — the  little  square  enclosure 
cut  out  of  the  forest — the  lonely  ones  dragging  them 
selves  with  painful  remembrances  to  their  task,  and 
thinking  affectionately  of  him.  Then  it  was,  that  his 
heart  cried  out  in  the  earnest  petition  of  the  Scriptures, 
"  Oh  !  that  1  had  the  wings  of  a  dove,  that  I  might  fly 
away"  and  he  with  them. 

In  the  steam-boat,  amidst  the  passengers  playing  their 
cards,  and  resorting  to  all  the  customary  expedients  to 
kill  time,  or  in  the  city,  when  the  crowd  was  rushing  to 
the  theatre  on  the  Sabbath  evening,  he  remained  still 
the  same.  He  uniformly  spent  his  Sabbaths  as  nearly 
according  to  his  former  habits,  as  his  present  pursuits 
would  admit.  He  had  his  bible.  Still  more ;  he  had 
his  assigned  hour  and  the  privacy  of  his  birth,  where, 
on  his  knees  before  God/ all  the  restrained  feelings  of 
his  affectionate  and  filial  heart  were  poured  forth  to  the 
Almighty.  Then  before  him  he  called  up  to  remem 
brance  his  mother's  necessities,  and  the  determination, 
that  no  guilty  fear  of  the  charge  of  meanness  should 
tempt  him  to  squander  any  part  of  his  wages.  Here 
he  determined,  that  profusion  and  extravagance  should 
seduce  him  in  vain  from  his  purpose  to  carry  home  to 
her  all  that  he  could  save  from  expenditures  that  were 
indispensable. 

He  had  another  object  in  view  from  the  first.  His  cher 
ished  purpose  was  to  become  a  captain  of  a  steam-boat. 
His  intention  was  to  quality  himself  thoroughly  for  that 
post.  With  this  view  he  spent  much  of  his  time  on 
deck,  gleaning  information  concerning  the  river  from 
experienced  boatmen.  He  studied  the  currents,  the 
boils,  and  eddies,  the  marks  of  shallow  and  deep  water, 
the  indications  for  steering  in  the  night,  and  all  the  hun 
dred  complicated  physical  aspects  of  this  sweeping  and 
dangerous  stream.  The  captain  and  pilot  were  pleased 
to  impart  to  him  all  necessary  instruction,  touching  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN. 


125 


art  and  mystery  of  steersmanship  and  the  management 
of  the  boat.  He  made  the  powers  and  capabilities  of 
the  engine  a  thorough  study.  His  eye  saw  all,  and  he 
ceasecl  not  until  he  comprehended  all,  that  could  be 
learned  on  board  of  the  boat.  So  well  had  he  profited  by 
these  lessons,  that  on  his  return  trip,  he  found  himself 
invited  to  take  his  watch  at  steering  along  with  the  pilot. 
He  managed  his  watch  in  such  a  way,  as  to  show  how 
rapidly  he  had  profited  by  his  lessons.  Time  with  him, 
as  it  ought  to  be  with  every  intelligent  and  virtuous 
young  man,  was  seen  in  its  true  value.  He  perceived, 
that  it  was  all  the  estate  to  which  he  was  born,  and  he 
determined,  that  not  a  fragment  of  this  precious  patri~ 
mony  should  be  lost.  When  not  occupied  with  one 
kind  of  duties,  he  immediately  sped  to  another.  He 
was  reading,  writing,  gathering  information  about  the 
country,  or  in  some  way  engaged  in  steady  reference 
to  his  future  views  in  life.  He  was  absent  on  this  trip 
two  months.  Good  sons,  in  whose  bosoms  the  heart 
throbs  naturally  under  the  left  breast,  can  tell  how  he 
felt,  as  the  boat  was  at  last  rounding  to  the  Iron  Banks. 
The  passengers,  observing  the  changes  from  crimson  to 
paleness  in  his  cheek,  jested  with  him  about  some  sweet 
heart  there.  But  George's  was  a  still  profounder  and 
holier  feeling,  too  deep  even  to  endure  a  jest.  The 
boat  would  lie  by  for  repairs  one  day.  The  only  requi 
site,  which  he  sought  in  the  horse  that  was  to  carry  him 
out  to  the  settlement,  was  fleetness.  For  once  he  was 
a  hard  rider,  and  drove  his  horse  to  the  top  of  his  speed. 
I  can  see  the  tears  of  tenderness  rush  to  his  eye;  I 
can  see  the  heaving  of  his  bosom,  as  he  came  in  view 
of  the  clearing.  He  sprang  over  the  stile,  and  in  the 
next  moment  he  was  in  the  arms  of  his  mother.  My 
dear  young  reader,  such  a  meeting  is  worth  more,  than 
all  the  pleasures  of  dissipation  and  vice  for  an  eternity. 
Besides  God,  religion,  and  the  hope  of  indulging  friend 
ship  and  these  delightful  feelings  in  eternity,  there  is  noth 
ing  worth  living  for  on  the  earth,  but  the  love  springing 


126 

from  such  relations.     All  on   this  earth  is  a  dream  but 
virtuous  affection  and  the   charities  of  home.     Riches, 
power,  distinction,  are  all  cold  externals.     This  thing  is 
home-felt.  It  reaches  the  heart.  How  proud  and  how  hap 
py  felt  Mrs.  Mason  to  fold  this  dear  son  to  her  maternal 
bosom  !    How  innocent  were  the  caresses  of  the  charm 
ing  Eliza  !     How  boisterous  the  joy  of  the  young  chil 
dren  !     How  proud  was  Henry  to   give  an   account  of 
his  stewardship.     It  was  a  full  hour,  before   the  books, 
toys,  and   dresses,  the   fruit  and  rarities,  brought  from 
the   far  city  were   even   contemplated.      The   pure   in 
heart  only  know  the  pleasures  of  real  and  deep  enjoy 
ment  ;    and  such  high  satisfactions  as  these,  are  only  to 
be  bought  by  absence  and  privation.    It  was  long  before 
the  mother  and  sister  remarked  how  much  he  had   im 
proved  in  appearance,  now,  that  he  was  plainly,  but  re 
spectably   dressed.      Besides  smaller   articles,  he  had 
brought  some  books,  a  box  of  paints,  and  drawing  paper, 
a  present  for  his  sister  from  a  friend,  whom  he  had   ac 
quired   on   his   passage,  and  to  his  mother  forty  dollars. 
To  follow  his  fortunes  through  the  three  succeeding 
years  would  be  little  more,  than  a  repetition    of  similar 
incidents  with  those  I  have  just  related.     All  the  while 
he  continued  in  the  same  employment,  running  between 
L.  and  New  Orleans  eight   months  in  the   year ;    and 
between  that  place   and   P.  on   the   Ohio,   during  the 
sultry  months.     A  character,  genuinely  good,  needs  no 
artificial   blazoning.     George  was  already  a  great   man 
in  the   estimation   of  the   settlement.     All  accounts  of 
him   tended  to   one  point.     All  agreed,  that  he  was  an 
excellent  young   man.      The   planters   agreed,  that  he 
had   the  "  gab,"   like  a  lawyer,  and   Hercules   Pindall 
quailed  in   view  of  his   manly  form   and    flashing  eye. 
The  threat  of  ejectment  was  hushed,   and  his  pursuit  of 
Eliza  was   distant   and  respectful.      The  family  exer 
cised  the  most  rigid  and  careful  economy  ;    but  by  the 
aid  of  their  ground,  and  the  assistance  derived  from  the 
wages  of  George,  and  the  proceeds  of  the  industry  of 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  127 

the  children,  of  which  he  had  every  chance  to  dispose 
in  New  Orleans,  they  were  not  only  comfortable,  but 
were  laying  by  a  little  fund.  Eliza  was  appointed 
school-mistress,  and  applied  herself  with  assiduous  in 
dustry  to  the  instruction  of  the  children,  and  many  of 
the  silent  hours  of  the  night  she  spent  in  reading,  and 
in  close  application  to  her  studies  to  inform  herself. 
The  people  of  the  settlement  in  general  looked  to  them 
as  people,  the  aspect  of  whose  fortune  was  brightening. 
Almost  every  return  trip  of  the  boat  allowed  George 
some  little  time  to  spend  with  them.  For  fear  he  would 
not  be  allowed  sufficient  time  to  go  out  to  the  cabin, 
they  always  made  it  a  point  to  be  on  the  bank,  at  ,the 
time  when  his  boat  was  expected.  There  are  many 
mothers,  who  can  imagine  the  impatience,  with  which 
they  used  to  gaze  on  the  point  below,  round  which  his 
boat  first  hove  in  sight.  There  are  many  who  can 
imagine  the  meeting  which  took  place  between  the  par 
ties  when  he  did  actually  arrive.  There  are  many 
who  can  imagine  the  pangs  of  separation,  when  these 
short  meetings  terminated.  1  need  only  add,  that,  to 
soften  them  as  much  as  possible,  he  kept  a  detailed 
journal  of  all  that  he  saw,  enjoyed,  suffered,  and  felt — 
a  history  of  events,  thoughts,  and  actions.  The  moth 
er,  between  every  passage,  had  conned  this  journal 
a  dozen  times.  Each  of  the  children  was  familiar  with 
all  the  words  and  phrases  in  it ;  and  in  their  own  es 
says  at  letter  writing  all  the  thoughts  of  brother  George 
became  matters  of  classical  quoting  and  illustration. 
Even  Hercules  Pindall  and  Jethro  Garvin,  now,  that 
they  had  become  somewhat  tamed  and  modest  in  their 
deportment,  were  occasionally  admitted.  Even  they 
had  heard  George's  journal.  The  crafty  young  men 
pretended  to  admire  the  style  and  the  manner  of  it  pro 
digiously.  In  this  way,  through  the  honest  pride  and 
affection  of  the  mother,  they  more  than  once  brought 
about  their  real  object,  which  was  to  read  a  few  mo 
ments  in  the  eye  of  Eliza,  instead  of  hearing  the  jour 
nal  of  her  brother. 


128  GEORGE  MASON, 

With  respect  to  my  hero,  I  need  only  remark,  that 
his  progress  in  gaining  the  confidence  of  his  captain, 
and  the  general  regard  of  all,  with  whom  he  became 
associated,  was  steady  and  unvarying.  After  the  first 
trip,  his  wages,  in  consequence  of  ,his  uniting  the  duties 
of  clerk  and  pilot,  were  increased  to  forty-five  dollars  a 
month.  While  at  New  Orleans  in  1822,  he  received 
by  mail  the  offer  of  the  command  of  a  beautiful  new 
steam-boat,  which  had  just  arrived  at  L.  with  an  ample 
salary  and  perquisites.  It  was  the  point  to  which  he 
had  been  constantly  reaching,  and  was  of  course  not 
to  be  refused.  He  would  have  found  it  difficult,  to 
obtain  a  release  from  his  present  captain,  had  it  not 
been,  that  his  boat  was  condemned,  as  no  longer  sea 
worthy.  When  he  had  settled  with  George,  he  gave 
him  demonstrations  of  affectionate  friendship  at  parting, 
equally  honorable  to  both. 

The  ill-fated  steam-boat  Tennessee  was  just  starting 
at  this  juncture  for  the  Ohio,  and  with  the  multitude  of 
passengers  in  that  boat,  he  took  his  passage.  I  was  at 
New-Orleans,  and  on  the  levee,  when  she  swept  round 
for  display  in  the  river,  fired  her  gun,  and  with  her  deck 
and  cabin  crowded  with  passengers,  moved  off  amidst 
the  shouts,  acclamations,  and  boisterous  gaiety  of  those 
on  board,  answered  by  waving  of  hats,  handkerchiefs, 
and  all  the  usual  demonstrations  on. the  shore.  Never 
was  a  more  beautiful  winter  morning  seen  in  that  cli 
mate,  so  fruitful  in  beautiful  winter  mornings.  Little 
could  any  one  have  foreseen,  or  conjectured  the  terrible 
catastrophe,  that  was  but  a  few  days  behind  such  de 
monstrations  and  such  a  jubilee  of  joy.  Every  one  in 
that  region  has  heard,  that  in  a  dark,  stormy,  and  sleety 
night,  in  one  of  the  most  furious  cypress  bends  above 
Natchez,  she  struck  a  snag,  and  burst  in  her  bow. 
Among  the  numerous  passengers  were  many  women 
and  children.  What  a  scene  of  horror  to  these  unfor 
tunate  beings  !  The  midnight  cry  reached  them,  while 
asleep  in  their  births.  The  water  poured  in  upon  them 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  129 

and  all  was  wailing,  confusion,  and  despair.  Some  ex 
hibited,  in  this  terrible  emergency,  that  presence  of 
mind,  and  that  noble  forgetfulness  of  self,  that  belong  to 
superior  natures.  Others  manifested  the  extremes  of 
cowardice  and  selfishness  united.  On  such  occasions 
it  is,  that  we  see  the  dignity  and  the  degradation  of  hu 
man  nature  brought  together,  and  grouped  in  the  strong 
est  contrast.  Every  one  has  heard,  that  that  there  was 
one  person  paddling  about  the  sinking  boat  in  a  skiff,-  in 
which  he  might  easily  have  saved  a  dozen  persons— 
keeping  at  a  distance,  however,  to  allow  no  one  to  get 
on  board.  He  was  calling,  the  while,  most  earnestly 
upon  some  of  the  drowning  passengers,  to  throw  into 
his  skiff  his  saddlebags,  in  which  was  a  paltry  sum  of 
dollars  ! 

Amidst  the  screaming,  agony,  and  distraction  of  the 
scene,  George  remained  calm  and  self-possessed.  To 
some  he  imparted  counsel  respecting  the  best  mode  of 
getting  on  shore  without  a  boat,  on  a  timber  or  a  plank. 
In  many  cases  he  saved  the  parties  by  repressing  reso 
lutions  resulting  from  the  counsels  of  distraction.  When 
his  presence  was  no  longer  useful  on  board  the  sinking 
boat,  he  swam  on  shore  behind  a  periogue,  which  was 
so  overloaded  as  to  upset.  It  had  already  arrived  near 
the  shore,  and  he  saved  a  mother  and  her  child  from 
those  that  were  on  board.  When  the  boat  first  came 
to  the  shore,  he  assisted  to  pass  her  cable  round  a  tree. 
Had  his  directions  been  followed,  the  boat  had  been 
saved.  But  other  counsels  prevailed,  and  it  was  de 
termined  to  loose  the  cable  from  the  first  tree,  to  get  a 
fast  round  one  that  was  deemed  more  favorable  for 
bringing  the  boat  to  shore.  The  cable  once  loosed 
from  the  first  tree,  the  boat  whirled  off  into  the  stream 
with  such  power,  that  they  were  unable  to  make  fast 
to  another.  Her  fate  was  soon  consummated.  The 
engineer  conducted  like  a  patriot,  or  a  martyr.  Uni 
versally  beloved  on  board,  there  were  friends,  who,  in 
escaping  themselves,  thought  of  him,  and  besought  him 


130  GEORGE  MASON, 

to  save  himself  in  the  periogue,  which  saved  so  many  of 
the  passengers.  His  answer  was  noble.  "  There  is  no 
chance  for  her  if  I  quit  the  engine,"  and  he  kept  the 
wheels  in  motion,  until  they  were  choked  with  water, 
and  was  drowned  in  the  engine-room,  struggling  to  the 
last  moment  to  perform  his  duty.  The  dwellers  on  the 
Mississippi  ought  to  raise  a  statue  to  his  memory. 

When  all,  that  remained  on  board,  in  the  darkness  and 
in  the  storm, .and  in  the  whirling  wrath  of  that  mighty  and 
sweeping  river,  were  plunged  into  its  waves,  it  needs  lit 
tle  effort  of  imagination,  to  conceive  what  a  scene  it  must 
have  been.  The  mother  was  whirled  under  the  current, 
among  the  sawyers,  with  her  babe  clinging  to  her  neck ; 
and  between  thirty  and  forty  perished.  How  many  our 
hero  saved,  we  cannot  tell.  There  were  other  generous 
spirits,  beside  him,  exerting  themselves  to  the  utmost  to 
save  all  in  their  power.  He  was  sometimes  swimming  be 
hind  a  canoe  full  of  people,  and  paddling  it  to  the  shore. 
Relinquishing  the  canoe  to  some  person  who  could  not 
swim,  he  was  next  seen  dragging  some  rescued  victim 
ashore  by  his  hair.  One  poor  wretch,  who  had  floated 
a  considerable  distance  down  stream,  had  caught  upon 
a  sawyer,  and  amidst  the  general  uproar,  had  been  cry 
ing  for  help  a  long  time  in  vain.  George  heard  him, 
and  carried  a  canoe  to  his  relief,  and  brought  him  safe 
ly  ashore,  after  he  was  so  far  exhausted  by  his  ex 
ertions  and  sufferings,  as  to  be  unable  to  speak,  when 
brought  to  the  land.  It  cannot  be  doubted,  but  he  suf 
fered  much  himself  from  cold,  exposure,  fatigue,  and 
exertion  in  swimming  against  the  current.  But  he  enjoy 
ed  the  most  exquisite  satisfaction,  that  a  good  mind  can 
experience  on  the  earth,  meriting  the  gratitude,  and  re 
ceiving  the  blessings  of  many,  saved  by  his  exertions, 
when  they  were  ready  to  perish. 

Having  done  every  thing,  that  benevolence  and  hu 
manity  could  dictate  for  the  people  that  had  been  saved 
from  the  foundered  boat,  and  having  bestowed  his  tribute 
of  unavailing  sorrow  upon  the  many  that  perished,  not- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  131 

withstanding  all  exertions,  he  set  off  on  his  way  back  to 
Natchez.  Thence  he  took  passage  on  the  first  boat  to  L. 
The  pilot  engaged  for  that  boat  was  found,  on  trial,  to  be 
inadequate  to  the  duties,  which  he  had  assumed.  George 
was  engaged  in  his  place,  which  once  more  put  him  on 
pay.  This  was  a  circumstance,  which  remembrance  of 
his  mother's  condition  forbade  him  ever  to  forget. 
This  boat  could  not  stop  at  the  Iron  Banks.  From  a 
certain  point,  indeed,  where  they  took  in  wood,  he  had 
a  chance  to  send  a  billet  to  his  mother,  informing  her 
of  his  fortunes,  and  that  he  should  be  back  in  a  fort 
night  from  that  day,  requesting  her  at  that  time  to  be  at 
the  Iron  Banks  with  the  children. 

I  hope  there  are  many  of  my  youthful  readers  who 
can  enter  into  the  feelings  of  this  good  young  man,  as 
the  boat  thundered  by  the  Iron  Banks,  without  stopping, 
and  how  he  strained  his  eyes  to  discern  the  path  over 
the  hill,  that  led  out  to  the  settlement,  and  with  what 
gloomy  and  disappointed  feelings  he  saw  that,  and  the 
bluff,  and  the  forests,  and  all  the  landmarks,  so  dear  to 
memory,  disappear  in  the  distance. 

He  had  a  short  and  pleasant  trip  to  L.  and  a  safe 
return  in  his  own  large,  new,  and  handsome  boat. 
Madam  Mason  and  the  family  were  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  some  hours  before  the  lime  advertised  for  his 
return.  The  mother  and  the  four  children  were  seated 
under  a  spreading  oak  a  little  below  the  summit,  on  the 
eastern  declivity  of  the  Iron  Banks,  eagerly  looking  up 
the  bend,  affording  a  reach  of  vision  of  about  five  miles, 
to  a  point  where  the  further  view  of  the  river  was  ob 
structed  by  the  woods  of  the  opposite  shore.  Every 
one  has  perceived,  that  in  a  slate  of  extreme  impatience 
a  minute  lengthens  to  an  hour.  The  children  com 
plained  of  delay.  Even  the  equanimity  of  the  mother 
was  vanquished,  and  she  fidgeted,  and  wondered  what 
detained  the  boat.  Half  a  dozen  times  the  children 
had  imagined  the  column  of  smoke  above  the  trees, 
and  had  cried,  clapping  their  hands,  "  There  she 


132  GEORGE  MASON, 

comes  !  "  By  and  by,  there  is  no  mistake,  and  a  col 
umn  of  smoke  is  really  seen  ;  and  the  children  begin  to 
caper  for  joy.  In  a  few  moments  afterwards  the  white 
bow  is  just  seen  shooting  from  behind  the  trees.  In  a 
minute  afterwards  a  noble  steam-boat  '  stands  confess 
ed,'  with  her  colors  and  pennons  flying,  and  an  immense 
cylindrical  column  of  pitchy  smoke  streaming  away  be 
hind,  and  bearing  down  upon  them,  under  a  movement 
of  twelve  miles  an  hour.  The  mother's  heart  still  flut 
ters  in  suspense,  for  it  may  not  be  her  son's  boat.  In 
another  instant,  that  doubt  is  dispelled.  A  burst  of  white 
smoke  shoots  from  the  bow,  and  the  children  admire  at 
the  length  of  time,  before  her  cannon  is  heard.  Then 
they  are  sure  it  is  the  boat,  they  expect.  By  this 
time,  there  are  a  hundred  people  on  the  bank,  watch 
ing  the  approach  of  the  new  steam-boat.  I  could  almost 
envy  the  allowable  pride  and  enthusiasm  of  the  mother 
and  the  son,  as  the  noble  boat  rounded  to  the  shore,  and 
as  the  latter  descried  her  and  the  children  under  the 
tree,  and  as  they  distinguished  him  standing  on  the  bow- 
deck.  In  another  moment  the  son  was  ashore,  and 
folded  in  his  mother's  arms.  Every  one  of  the  family 
was  plainly,  but  respectably  dressed.  The  hundred 
spectators,  who,  in  such  cases,  are  uniformly  seen  loung 
ing  on  the  shore,  to  witness  the  landing  of  a  steam 
boat,  shrunk  back  from  the  affecting  spectacle  and  the 
tender  greetings  of  this  interesting  group.  Hercules 
Pindall  and  Jethro  Garvin,  and  two  or  three  other 
young  Creoles,  eyed  the  scene  at  a  distance,  and 
askance,  with  mingled  feelings  of  love,  hate,  and  envy, 
exhibiting  faces,  not  unlike  those  usually  assigned  by 
painters  to  Judas  Iscariot. 

The  interest  of  this  spectacle  was  strong  evidence, 
that  the  amount  of  deference,  respect,  and  homage  in 
common  minds  is  chiefly  regulated  by  external  appear 
ance.  The  family  was  now  considered  a  rising  one, 
and  made  as  much  show,  as  the  wealthiest  among  them. 
Three  years  before,  in  the  same  place,  the  same  family 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  1  33 

would  have  appeared  either  objects  of  indifference  or 
derision.  To  the  dwellers  on  the  shores  of  the  Missis 
sippi  and  the  Ohio,  there  are  but  few  personages,  en 
titled  to  higher  and  more  heart-felt  homage  than  the 
captains  of  steam-boats.  The  coming  of  a  steam-boat 
breaks  the  silence  of  the  forest.  Jt  brings  the  popula 
tion  and  the  fashions  and  the  news  and  the  show  of  a 
city  among  them.  It  purchases  their  wood,  milk,  meats, 
eggs,  and  vegetables,  and  it  sells  them  groceries,  finery, 
and  whiskey.  For  a  half  hour  ihey  exult  in  the  bustle 
and  traffic  and  news  of  a  city.  It  is  intensely  enjoyed  for 
the  time,  for  they  are  aware,  that  the  pleasure  is  tran 
sitory.  The  cannon  is  fired.-  The  boat  is  under  way, 
and  in  ten  minutes  nothing  interrupts  the  silence  of  the 
forest  again,  but  the  screaming  of  the  jays. 

In  the  short  interview,  which  George  had  with  his 
mother,  entirely  new  arrangements  were  made  for  the 
future.  He  had  taken  a  handsome  housel  in  a  large 
and  thriving  village  near  L.  which  had  the  advantage  of 
schools,  of  a  higher  class,  and  respectable  society,  and 
here  he  proposed  to  place  his  mother,  and  to  take  the 
family  up  to  their  residence  on  his  return  from  New- 
Orleans.  She  was  to  sell  the  establishment  there  for 
whatever  it  would  bring,  and  to  be  on  the  bank,  ready 
to  embark,  when  the  boat  should  return.  It  need  not 
be  doubled,  that  all  this  arrangement  was  entirely  satis 
factory  to  her,  on  its  own  merits,  even  had  it  not  been 
made  by  one,  who,  in  her  eye,  was  little  apt  to  make 
wrong  decisions. 

Mr.  Pindall  purchased  the  claim  to  the  cabin  and 
clearing,  giving  something  more  than  half  its  fair  value. 
Hercules  had  his  last  interview  with  Eliza.  The  avow 
al  of  his  continued  and  ill  requited  devotion  was  rather 
noted  for  its  strength,  than  its  delicacy.  Having  pe 
rused  it  in  black  and  white,  I  find,  however,  that  ir  was 
substantially  the  same  sort  of  harangue,  that  has  been 
said  and  sung  in  all  languages,  in  all  ages,  and  by  all 
people.  His  movements  wanted  something  of  grace, 
12 


134  GEORGE  MASON, 

and  his  genuflections  were  not  managed  upon  system, 
it  is  true.  But  what  the  affair  wanted  in  polish,  it 
gained  in  energy.  His  tears  soiled  no  handkerchief, 
and  he  told  her,  that  she  might  go  farther,  and  fare 
worse,  In  conclusion  he  assured  her,  he  hoped,  she 
would  not  forget  him  altogether;  and  for  himself,  he 
promised  to  forget  her,  as  soon,  as  he  could.  "  For," 
said  he,  "  I  would  have  had  you  if  I  could.  But,  by 
gqish,  I  will  now  marry  Dehby  Sweetser,  offhand." 

The  voyage  to  New-Orleans  was  marked  by  no  ac 
cident,  and  the  boat  hove  in  sight  of  the  Iron  Banks 
within  two  hours,  after  the  assigned  time  for  her  return. 
The  family  had  made  every  preparation  for  removal, 
and  were  on  the  bank,  awaiting  the  return  of  the  boat. 
A  great  many  respectable  passengers  came  up  in  her. 
The  family  meeting  took  place  a  little  removed  from 
the  public  gaze,  and  when  the  first  transports  were  over, 
George  led  his  mother  and  sister,  followed  by  three  fine, 
brown,  healthy-looking  Creole  boys,  into  the  cabin. 
Mrs.  Mason  was  richly  dressed  in  black,  and  though 
pale  and  care-worn  had  a  face  and  figure,  in  which 
dignity  and  interest  were  united  in  an  uncommon  de 
gree.  The  younger  children  were  clad  in  new  suits  of 
blue,  and  looked  a  little  shy  and  awkward  at  first,  es 
pecially  when  they  caught  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
splendid  cabin.  It  was  seventy  feet  in  length,  support 
ed  by  pilasters,  and  ornamented  with  mirors.  At  one 
end  was  a  considerable  library  in  an  open  alcove,  and 
at  the  other  a  circular  arcade,  beyond  which  was  the 
bar,  making  a  great  display  of  liquors,  refreshments  of 
all  kinds,  and  fruits,  among  which  were  oranges,  pine 
apples,  and  bananas.  The  finishings  were  fine  to  gau- 
diness,  and  the  floor  was  carpeted  with  Venetian  car 
peting.  The  curtains  in  front  of  the  births  were  of 
yellow  silk,  drawn  up  with  tassels  and  festoons.  Fold 
ing  doors  led  to  the  ladies'  cabin,  in  which  some  one 
was  playing  the  piano.  The  furnishings  and  the  doors 
were  of  mahogany.  Such  were  the  splendor  and  luxu- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  135 

ry,  that  had  already  made  their  way  into  the  Mississippi 
forests. 

Eliza  Mason,  now  fully  formed  and  turned  of 
eighteen,  was  exquisitely  beautiful.  Her  complexion 
had  received  a  slight  tinge  of  olive  from  the  climate. 
Seclusion,  solitude,  and  the  deeply  remembered  loss 
of  her  father  had  imparted  to  her  countenance  a 
look  of  pensive  meditation,  which  threw  an  inexpressi 
ble  charm  over  it.  She  had  hitherto  been  as  rustic  in 
her  dress,  as  a  shepherdess.  On  the  present  occasion 
her  mother  had  taken  great  pains  to  have  her  plainly, 
but  fashionably  dressed.  Hercules  sighed  and  Jethro 
sighed  most  pastorally,  and  the  young  planters  gazed 
upon  her,  as  she  went  on  board  the  boat,  as  on  a  pass 
ing  vision. 

It  maybe  imagined,  that  the  young  children  had  all 
their  eyes  in  operation,  when  just  coming  from  their 
humble  cabin  to  a  scene  of  so  much  gaud.iness  of  dis 
play.  The  flame-colored  curtaining,  the1  splendid  fur 
niture,  all  the  gay  accompaniments,  the  handsomely 
dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen,  opened  upon  them  at 
once.  As  they  approached  a  large  mirror,  they  were 
ready  to  retreat  in  dismay  from  the  sight  of  three  hand 
some,  stiff  boys  in  blue,  apparently  just  like  themselves, 
and  who  advanced  upon  them,  as  ihey  advanced. 
Their  sister  perceived  them  just  ready  to  cry  out  in 
amazement,  and  held  up  her  finger,  which  was  a  pre 
concerted  signal,  when  they  were  to  be  silent.  Their 
hearts  palpitated  a  little,  at  first,  in  view  of  the  black 
machinery,  pounding  its  cranks  and  whirling  its  wheels, 
with  such  prodigious  force.  The  sooty  faces  of  the 
savage-looking  and  bearded  firemen,  the  glowiflg  of  the 
furnace  fires,  the  hissing  of  the  steam,  the  croaking  of 
the  escape  steam,  the  trembling  and  recoil  of  the  boat 
under  so  much  power,  and  the  dashing  of  the  water 
from  the  buckets,  are  all,  naturally,  circumstances  of 
astonishment  and  terror  to  children,  until  they  are  used 
to  them.  But  they  had  come  on  board  with  a  feeling, 


136  GEORGE  MASON, 

that  all  this  tremendous  power  was  under  the  beneficent 
control  of  brother  George,  and  this  association  soon 
rendeied  this  otherwise  formidable  spectacle,  this  clat 
ter  and  power,  an  object  of  pride  rather  than  terror. 

The  captain  led  his  moiher,  and  the  children  into 
the  ladies'  cabin.  Eliza  walked  through  the  long  cabin 
full  of  gentlemen,  as  timid  as  a  fawn,  and  as  beautiful 
as  the  red-bird  of  her  own  woods.  She  had  as  yet 
seen  nothing  to  love,  but  her  mother  and  brothers,  and 
imagined,  that  there  was  not  another  fine  young  man  in 
the  world,  but  brother  George.  As  she  passed,  she 
could  not  but  be  sensible  of  that  almost  inaudible,  yet 
clear  and  sensibly  felt  expression  of  admiration,  which 
accompanied  her  to  the  cabin  door,  and  it  brought  the 
crimson  of  confusion  into  her  cheek.  We  may  remark, 
in  passing,  that  one  of  the  passengers,  his  name  was 
Leonard,  was  an  uncommonly  fine  young  man,  whose 
expressive  countenance  was  rendered  more  interesting 
by  a  flush  of  hectic  floridness  in  his  cheek,  and  a  touch 
of  debility  in  his  eye,  who  was  returning  from  a  win 
ter's  excursion  to  Havanna,  where  he  had  been  for  his 
health,  to  his  home  in  the  state  of  Maine.  It  is  said, 
that  love,  and  poetry,  and  madness,  and  various  other 
endowments,  and  inflictions,  walk  in  darkness,  like  pes 
tilence,  and  come,  no  one  can  tell  how  nor  whence. 
Certain  it  is,  that  Mr.  Leonard  was  returning  to  the 
North  comparatively  cured  of  the  hectic  weakness  at 
bis  breast,  only  to  suffer  from  a  passing  glance  of  this 
rural  damsel,  as  she  went  by  to  her  cabin,  an  infliction 
upon  the  heart,  as  deep,  if  not  as  difficult  to  cure,  as 
that  in  the  breast,  from  which  he  had  just  escaped. 

Mrs.  Mason  had  never  been  in  a  steam-boat  before. 
She  felt  the  common  feminine  terrors  in  the  case.  But 
she  soon  began  to  feel  assured,  by  perceiving  how  man 
ageable,  as  well  as  swift,  was  this  mighty  movement 
against  the  current  of  the  Mississippi.  A  certain  confi 
dence  and  pride,  dear  to  t'.ie  maternal  heart,  began  to  be 
felt  in  the  reflection,  that  her  good  son,  hardly  yet  ar- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  137 

rived  at  majority,  bad  the  command  of  this  powerful 
machinery,  that  pushed  on  this  floating  city.  Defer 
ence  and  attention  are  naturally  grateful  to  all,  who 
have  heen  once  accustomed  to  them.  They  are  pe 
culiarly  so  to  the  female  heart,  and  more  than  all,  after 
a  long  deprivation  of  them.  None  but  those  who  have 
seen,  have  imagined  the  sumpiuousness  of  a  dinner  on 
board  a  first-rate  Mississippi  steam-boat.  At  dinner, 
Mrs.  Mason  was  led  by  her  son  to  the  head  of  the  ta 
ble,  and  saw  ranged  below  her  eighty  well-dressed  and 
genteel-looking  people.  She  was  once  more  seated  at 
a  table,  where  every  thing  was  in  order,  and  where  she 
was  respectfully  and  astiduously  helped,  and  where  all 
the  observances  of  society  were  understood  and  prac 
tised.  Her  heart  expanded,  at  what  she  saw,  and  the 
pleasant  recollections  of  other  days.  The  simplicity 
and  poverty  of  a  backwoods  life  had  not  been  the  offen 
sive  features  of  that  condition  to  her.  But  she  was 
perfectly  willing  to  resign  to  the  disciples  of  Rousseau 
their  admiration  of  savage  and  demi -savage  life.  It  is 
true,  she  watched  her  beautiful  daughter  with  an  anx 
ious  and  painful  solicitude,  lest  her  inexperience  in  the 
forms  of  society  should  show  itself  in  awkwardness  and 
rusticity.  It  is  true,  too,  that  her  daughter  had  seen 
but  little  for  a  long  period  of  that  important  time,  when 
her  mind  was  unfolding  from  childhood  to  maturity,  ex 
cept  woods,  Indians,  and  the  coarse  young  men  in  the 
settlement.  But  it  is  also  true,  that  she  had  read  some 
of  the  smuggled  novels  of  her  mother,  that  she  had 
thought  a  great  deal,  and  that  she  had  had  abundant 
leisure  to  study  the  innocent  novel  of  her  own  heart. 
It  is  equally  true,  that  there  are  some  young  ladies, 
who  seem  to  be  instinctively  endowed  with  native  grace 
and  tact,  to  comprehend  the  proprieties  of  deportment, 
and  Miss  Eliza  knew  a  great  many  things,  with  perfect 
clearness,  which  no  one  could  have  expected  from  her 
condition  and  advantages.  For  instance,  amidst  all  the 
clatter,  bustle,  and  novelty  of  this  dinner,  and  a  posi- 
12* 


138  GEORGE    MASON, 

tion,  which  it  may  be  supposed,  was  not  a  little  embar 
rassing  to  her,  she  had  not  failed  to  discover,  and  had 
she  chosen  she  could  have  told  a  confidant  as  much, 
that  a  young  man  sat  opposite  her  with  the  prettiest 
velvet  softness  and  smoothness  of  manner  and  voice  im 
aginable,  and  that  he  had  evidently  wished  to  anticipate 
her  wants,  <^c.  She  could  have  admitted,  that  there  was 
another  fine-looking  young  man  in  the  world,  beside  her 
brother.  She  would  not,  probably,  have  allowed  to  that 
confidant,  or  even  to  her  own  conscience,  what  was 
nevertheless  a  fact,  that  her  eye  had  caught  a  glance 
of  his,  and  read,  and  interpreted  the  expression  and 
import  of  that  glance. 

Young  ladies  of  a  certain  age  and  character,  it  must 
be  confessed,  are  much  more  adroit  at  comprehending 
and  practising  the  decencies  and  proprieties  of  deport 
ment,  than  young  men,  Nature,  if  she  has  fair  play, 
knows  be.'tter,  what  she  is  about,  than  ait  with  all  her 
vile  instructions  in  grimace  and  affectation.  Be  it  as  it 
may,  the  natural  grace,  sensibility,  and  elegance  of  this 
untaught  wood-nymph  did  the  business  for  poor  Mr. 
Leonard, — for  it  was  he  who  sal  opposite  her, — more 
effectual  y  than  if  she  had  been  trained  to  murder  at  a 
fashionable  boarding-school.  To  prove  in  fact,  a  priori, 
as  they  say,  that  Eliza  Mason  knew  a  thing  or  two,  in 
the  way  of  management,  it  is  only  necessary  to  relate  one 
fact,  that  anticipating,  that  her  three  young  brothers 
brought  with  devouring  appetites  from  the  simple  diet 
of  their  cabin  to  such  a  sumptuous  dinner,  migjit  create 
unpleasant  notice,  by  their  voraciousness,  she  had  given 
them  their  fill  of  sweet  cake  and  raisins  three  times  in 
the  forenoon.  Her  mother  had  aimed  at  the  same  re 
sult  by  giving  them  an  emphatic  lecture,  in  the  privacy 
of  the  cabin,  touching  the  manner,  in  which  they  must 
behave  themselves  at  table.  I  will  not  say,  which  man 
agement  had  the  most  efficacy  upon  the  deportment  of 
the  boys.  After  all,  Eliza  cast  an  anxious  eye  upon 
them,  as  they  sat  below  her  at  table,  and  saw  with  in- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  139 

finite  satisfaction,  that  their  total  want  of  appetite  gave 
their  sylvan  rusticity  an  air  of  well-bred  indifference  and 
fastidiousness. 

I  can  imagine  few  conditions  more  favorable  to  en 
joyment,  than  this  trip  of  Mrs.  Mason  to  her  new  resi 
dence  on  the  Ohio.  A  steam-boat  under  such  circum 
stances,  as  the  present,  is  always  delightful  at  first.  In 
most  instances  it  completely  fills  the  imagination,  and 
wears  as  well  as  most  pleasant  earthly  things.  It  is 
true,  time  and  repetition  dispel  at  least  the  charm  of 
novelty.  But  the  first  two  days  of  a  steam-boat  trip  in 
the  spring,  under  favorable  circumstances,  are  even  yet 
after  such  long;  use  to  them,  delightful  to  me.  Every 
thing  conspired  to  render  this  a  charming  voyage  to 
Mrs.  Mason.  The  season  was  the  pleasantest  in  the 
year,  that  is  to  say,  Spring,  and  that  season  is  nowhere 
more  delightful,  than  on  the  shores  of  the  Ohio.  An 
uncommon  proportion  of  the  passengers  were^of  the 
most  respectable  class.  The  boat  was  in  fine  order, 
The  river  was  full  to  the  brim.  The  vernal  gales  were 
breathing  their  sweetest  influences  from  the  south.  The 
verdure  of  the  forests,  as  far  as  they  could  see  from  the 
boat,  had  that  depth  and  grandeur  which  are  peculiar 
to  the  lower  course  of  the  Ohio  and  the  Mississippi. 
With  the  exception  of  two  or  three  solitary  bluffs  on  the 
Mississippi,  the  children  had  but  once  seen  hills,  since 
they  had  lived  in  the  country.  The  first  bluffs  that  are 
seen  on  ascending  the  Ohio,  are  singularly  magnificent 
and  grand.  There  is  deep  water,  as  every  one,  ac 
customed  to  the  scenery,  knows,  directly  on  the  verge 
of  the  shore,  at  the  foot  of  these  bluffs.  -They  have  a 
nobleness  of  rounding,  and  a  whimsical  variety  of  sum 
mits,  which  1  want  words  to  describe.  The  boat  sweeps 
along  at  their  base,  and  early  in  the  afternoon  is  com 
pletely  in  the  shade.  Oftentimes,  these  bluffs  have  an 
aspect,  as  if  they  would  roll  down  upon  the  boat,  and 
dam  up  the  beautiful  river.  I  have  never  seen  spring 
more  charming,  and  I  have  no  more  pleasant  associa- 


140  bEORGE  MASON, 

tions  with  the  mere  physical  enjoyment  of  existence 
than  in  sitting  on  the  guard  in  mild  weather  in  tho 
spring,  after  the  sun  lias  sunk  behind  these  noble  hills. 
At  this  season,  on  pleasant  evenings,  there  is  an  ineffa 
ble  softness  and  mildness  in  the  temperature,  and  a 
bland  and  balmy  fragrance  in  the  atmosphere.  To  my 
eye  there  is  not  a  more  beautiful  shrub  in  nature  than 
that  of  the  red-bud  in  full  blossom.  It  is  a  perfect  tuft 
of  beautiful  peach-blossom  flowers,  and  they  show  on 
the  precipitous  declivities  of  these  bluffs,  strung  one 
above  another,  and  diffused  on  every  side  through  the 
forest,  so  that,  taken  into  the  eye  along  with  the  splen 
did  white  flowers  of  the  dog-wood,  the  wilderness  at 
this  season  may  literally  be  said  to  blossom.  A  hun 
dred  romantic  stories,  told  by  the  boatmen,  about  the 
"house  of  nature,"  "  the  cave  in  rock,"  and  the  resi 
dences  of  robbers,  and  their  exploits  of  blood,  and  at 
tacks  of  the  InJians  in  former  days,  concur  to  give  im 
pression  and  interest  to  this  scenery. 

Madam  Mason  was  this  evening  sitting  on  the  guards 
of  the  bo;it,  as  it  was  gliding  swiftly  along,  in  the  shade 
of  the  lofty  and  flowering  bluff;;,  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Ohio.  She  sat  in  a  cushioned  settee  with  her  two 
younger  children  on  her  right  hand,  and  Eliza  and 
Henry  on  her  left.  The  scene  was  full  of  sublimity 
and  repose,  and  the  shrubs,  the  flowers,  the  cliffs,  the 
trees,  the  sky,  and  the  columns  of  smoke  spouted  up 
from  the  tubes  of  the  furnace,  were  beautifully  painted 
in  the  water,  as  the  boat  seemed  to  My  over  the  paint 
ing,  and  yet  to  transport  it,  as  it  went.  The  children 
expressed  their  untrained  admiration,  by  interjections ; 
the  mother  by  the  calm  and  pleasing  silence,  of  contem 
plation,  and  communion  with  the  Author  of  this  beauti 
ful  nature.  Half  way  up  the  cliffs,  the  birds  were  sing 
ing  their  "vesper  hymns,"  undisturbed  by  the  uproar 
of  the  passing  boat. 

After  the  sun  no  longer  gilded  the   springing  verdure 
on  the  summit  of  the  bluffs,  and  as  the  repose  and  beau- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  141 

ty  of  the  scene,  along  with  the  increasing  dusk  of  twi 
light,  gave  confidence  to  the  timidily  of  incipient  love, 
young  Mr.  Leonard  so  contrived  it,  that  he  was  intro 
duced  by  the  captain  to  Mrs.  Mason.  Of  course,  he 
took  a  seat  between  the  settee  and  the  guards.  He 
soon  found  where  Mrs.  Mason  was  born.  It  was  next 
discovered,  that  they  were  both  Yankees;  thirdly,  that 
their  parents  were  acquainted  ;  fourthly,  that  they  were 
related  within  the  degree  of  twentieth  cousins  ;  fifthly, 
that  he  had  taken  a  strong  liking  to  the  captain  all  the 
way  from  New  Orleans.  From  these  circumstances  of 
affinity,  and  as  he  was,  moreover,  a  remarkably  good- 
looking  young  man,  gentle,  mild,  quiet,  and  sweet  spoken, 
handsomely  dressed,  and  of  elegant  manners,  and  as  he 
so  warmly  liked  George,  it  was  natural,  that  Mrs.  Ma 
son  should  take  a  motherly  interest  in  him.  When  he 
painted  the  mental  anguish  it  had  cost  him,  to  tear  him 
self  away  from  a  widowed  mother  at  home,  of  whom  he 
was  the  only  child,  for  an  absence  so  long,  as  a  six 
months'  excursion  to  a  distant  and  strange  island,  and 
the  agony  of  his  mother's  farewell,  at  a  parting  under 
such  just  grounds  of  apprehension,  that  she  should  never 
see  him  again  in  the  flesh,  it  is  natural,  that  Mrs.  Ma 
son,  should  remember  certain  passages  in  her  own  life, 
and  that  her  eyes  should  fill  at  the  recollection.  Nor 
could  Eliza,  as  she  reached  her  mother  her  handker 
chief,  forbear  to  notice  the  kindling  suffusion  in  the  still 
delicate  cheek  of  Mr.  Leonard.  This  interesting  young 
man  was  a  subject  of  contemplation  ten  times  more 
dangerous  to  such  a  girl  as  Eliza,  while  relating  the  in 
cidents  of  such  a  parting,  with  a  countenance  and  form 
indicative  of  convalescence  only  partially  established, 
than  he  would  have  been  in  the  perfect  glow  of  the 
most  robust  health. 

Two  or  three  such  "sentimental"  evenings  followed  in 
succession,  and  astronomy,  and  the  starry  heavens,  and 
the  spirits  that  dwell  in  those  twinkling  orbs,  and 


142 


GEORGE  MASON, 


munion  of  spirit  by  moon-light,  and  domestic  happiness, 
and  green  hills,  and  sheltered  valleys,  and  many  other 
pretty  and  tender  talks,  that  fall  in  with  the  feelings  of 
a  certain  age,  drawing  from  the  speakers  a  kind  of  half 
sigh  after  them,  never  forgetting,  towards  the  close,  the 
delectableness  of  "  Platonic  friendship,"  made  the  gene 
ral  burden  of  these  conversations.  However  the  other 
young  men  on  board  envied  young  Leonard,  it  soon 
came  to  be  a  matter  of  common  understanding,  that  he 
was  the  person,  whose  participation  in  these  evening 
sittings  was  the  most  acceptable.  Nor  had  Eliza  failed 
to  receive  many  witty  compliments  in  the  ladies'  cabin, 
from  the  young  ladies,  upon  her  conquest.  Nor  had 
she  failed  to  be  informed  of  the  immense  wealth  of 
young  Leonard,  his  fine  education,  winning  manners, 
Sic.  Nor  did  she  fail  to  receive  representations,  dark 
ened  by  the  tints  of  envy,  of  the  faithlessness  of  such 
rich  young  men,  and  the  multitudes  of  bonnets  that  were 
set  for  them,  thrown  in  by  way  of  damper  to  her  rising 
hopes,  if  any  she  had.  This  charming  girl  knew  a  good 
many  things,  that  she  did  not  tell  every  body,  and  had 
an  eye,  that  flashed  both  wit  and  good  nature.  She 
heard  all,  understood  all,  and  smiled,  and  parried  these 
representations,  affirming,  not  exactly  according  to  sin 
cerity,  that  she  had  no  interest  in  the  question  of  any 
one's  constancy.  The  truth  is,  even  they  believed 
much  more  in  his  being  in  earnest,  than  they  wished  to 
believe. 

"  Sentimental  evenings  "  are  wonderful  squanderers 
of  time,  and  before  they  thought  of  such  a  thing,  the 
captain  announced,  that  -they  would  arrive  at  L.  the 
next  day,  and  of  course,  that  his  mother  would  leave 
the  boat  for  their  new  residence,  early  in  the  morning. 
No  time  was  to  be  lost  for  certain  purposes  of  Mr. 
Leonard,  and  he  found  an  opportunity  to  say  things  to 
Eliza  in  private,  that  called  both  for  courage  and  recol 
lection,  on  her  part,  to  answer  properly.  For  my  part, 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  143 

I  am  at  a  loss  to  account  for  her  self-possession  in  this 
case.  But  true  it  is,  that  she  answered  certain  ques 
tions  as  much  to  the  point,  as  if  she  had  been  trained 
for  years  to  indite  the  answers,  and  on  the  whole,  I 
have  been  led  to  believe,  that  she  had,  in  some  mea 
sure,  prepared  herself  to  hear  such  conversations,  and 
to  answer  such  questions,  as  were  now  proposed  to  her. 
The  whole  of  this  conversation  has  not  been  reported 
to  me.  But  it  is  said,  that  she  reminded  him,  that  he 
was  educated,  and  that  she  was  not  ;  that  he  was  re 
puted  rich,  and  that  she  was  poor  ;  and  that  she  could 
never  think,  were  there  no  other  impediments  in  the 
way  of  what  he  proposed,  of  being  in  any  way  instru 
mental  in  inducing  such  a  mother,  as  he  described  his 
to  be,  to  reproach  him  with  marrying  unequally  and 
unworthily.  In  saying  all  this,  it  is  true,  she  was  much 
flurriedj  and  seemed  for  a  moment  to  labor  under  diffi 
culty  of  breathing.  But  as  the  children  soon  made 
light  of  the  first  terrors  of  the  machinery  of  the  boat,  so 
this  timid  girl  began  to  recover  breath  and  self-posses 
sion.  In  fact,  he  interrupted  her,  and  proved  to  her, 
that  she  was  finely  educated,  that  she  was  rich  in 
charms,  and  rich  in  endowments,  and  rich  in  native  tact, 
and  rich  in  every  thing,  which  he  cared  any  thing  about ; 
and  that  the  very  thing,  that  made  his  mother  good  and 
dear  to  him,  was,  that  she  always  thought  just  as  he 
did,  and  that  he  was  sure  to  a  demonstration,  that  she 
would  view  this  matter,  as  he  did,  and  love  her  as 
well — and  a  great  many  more  last  words,  which  took 
up  a  full  hour  in  the  saying.  It  is  generally  believed, 
that  she  threw  no  more  discouragement  and  denial  into 
her  remarks  and  answers,  than  just  enough  to  operate, 
according  to  her  understanding  of  the  doctrine  of  mind 
and  heart,  as  the  most  effectual  means  to  fix  him  in  his 
present  purposes,  and  that,  though  she  never  confessed 
as  much  to  any  one,  notwithstanding  all  that  she  had 
heard  about  the  infidelity  of  such  persons,  and  the  little 


144  GEORGE  MASON, 

reliance  to  be  placed  upon  their  promises,  she  did  most 
implicitly  believe,  that  she  should  botli  hear  from,  and 
see  him  again. 

On  arriving  at  her  place,  Mrs.  Mason  found  herself 
comfortably  shunted  in  a  good  house,  aud  in  a  largo 
and  populous  village.  The  children  were  forthwith  put 
to  school.  Eliza,  amply  supplied  with  books,  and  with 
a  powerful  mind  to  apply  to  them,  studied,  as  one  who 
had  not  been  informed  to  no  purpose,  that  Mr.  Leonard 
was  an  accomplished  scholar.  Late,  as  it  was,  in  the 
day.  to  begin,  she  took  lessons  in  music,  and  to  purpose 
too.  I  do  not  say,  that  1  understand  all  the  motives, 
that  led  her  to  apply  herself  so  closely,  as  to  make  the 
roses  in  her  cheek  give  place  to  the  lilies.  I  am  clear, 
that  an  intelligent  and  good  young  girl,  who  aspires  to 
become  a  companion  to  such  a  husband  as  Mr  Leonard, 
ought  to  study,  that  the  husband  may  not  find,  on  inti 
mate  acquaintance  after  marriage,  a  total  disparity  in 
the  mind  of  his  wife.  This  incessant  occupation  occa 
sioned  her  to  hear  many  witty  remarks  from  the  gentle 
men  of  the  village  about  "  concealment  "  and  a  '•  worm 
in  the  bud,"  &,c.  and  the  young  ladies,  when  they  pass 
ed  her  chamber,  and  saw  her  at  her  book,  looked  sig- 
nificantlv  at  each  other,  and  pronounced  her  a  "  would- 
be  blue  stocking."  Some  of  them  at  length  divined 
the  secret,  and  though  she  seemed  to  understand  noth 
ing  of  their  insinuations,  whenever  Mr.  Leonard's  name 
and  town  were  mischievously  mentioned,  certain  fugi 
tive  tell-tale  roses  in  her  cheek  said  more  than  met  the 
ear.  But  her  mother's  family  ranked,  on  ihe  whole, 
with  the  best  in  the  village,  and  was,  in  many  respects, 
as  eligibly  situated  as  it  could  expect  to  be  in  a  place 
of  that  size.  In  the  course  of  the  summer,  George 
made  two  trips  to  New  Orleans,  on  both  of  which  he 
was  uncommonly  fortunate,  and  in  that  time  he  became 
half  owner  of  his  steam-boat,  and  was  well  understood 
to  be  a  young  man,  who  was  making  money,  and  the 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  145 

knowing  ones  pointed  him  out,  as  one  who  knew  what 
he  was  about,  and  would  be  sure  to  be  rich.  Among 
the  ladies  he  bore  the  name  of  the  "  handsome  cap 
tain."  But  he  sustained  the  severe  temptation  of  their 
unequivocal  favor,  as  he  had  sustained  his  other  temp 
tations,  with  the  same  simple  habits  of  modesty  and  so 
briety. 


146  GEORGE  MASON, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Consenting  love 
Sheds  his  own  rosy  garlands  on  their  heads. 

To  those  who  wish  to  know,  without  a  trial,  what  is 
the  character  of  a  residence  in  a  village,  Zimmerman 
"on  Solitude, ';  will  be  a  profitable  book.  If  there  are 
peculiar  advantages  appended  to  such  a  residence,  there 
are  also  peculiar  disadvantages.  The  stinted  range  of 
society,  the  eager  and  garrulous  inquisitiveness,  the 
concentrated  bitterness  of  all  the  bad  passions,  that  are 
put  in  operation  in  such  a  place,  are  great  evils.  There 
are  those,  who  think  it  easy  to  live  in  a  village,  without 
mingling  with  its  society,  or  suffering  from  its  incon 
veniences.  Such  will  find  themselves  mistaken,  when 
they  make  the  experiment.  They  will  find,  that  while 
we  are  among  men,  we  must,  and  ought  to* mix  with 
them,  to  respect  them,  consult  their  tastes  and  opinions, 
and  treat  with  deference  even  their  prejudices.  Such 
views  and  feelings  will  soften  the  evils  and  aspprities  of 
such  a  sojourn.  Mrs.  Mason's  family  had  talked  this 
matter  over,  and  had  agreed  to  make  an  effort  to  be 
pleased  with  every  thing,  and  to  treat  every  one  re 
spectfully,  but  to  engage  in  none  of  their  feuds,  and 
meddle  in  none  of  their  petty  broils  and  divisions. 
With  these  principles  the  family  could  not  always  avoid 
mixing  with  the  society  of  the  place,  though  not  much 
in  the  habit  of  intimate  intercourse  with  it.  There  were 
many  pleasant  and  intelligent  people  in  it ;  and  in  the 
summer  time  especially,  when  its  reputed  healthfulness, 
and  a  mineral  spring  in  it,  made  it  a  place  of  resort  from 
abroad,  and  from  the  lower  country.  Among  the  par 
ties  which  Mrs.  Mason,  George,  and  Eliza,  attended, 
this  summer,  I  will  give  a  very  general  sketch  of  the 
character  and  the  circumstances  of  one,  with  the  double 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  147 

purpose  of  explaining,  how  they  passed  their  time  in 
this  village,  and  of  showing,  that  even  in  a  village  of  the 
third  class,  in  the  back-woods  of  the  West,  there  are  all 
the  elements  of  excitement,  of  ambition,  and  interest, 
that  there  are  in  a  levee,  or  a  fashionable  soiree. 

The  reader  is  probably  aware,  that  the  more  remote 
and  secluded  a  village  is,  and  the  more  reasons  there 
are,  that  it  should  possess  the  ease,  freedom,  and  sim 
plicity  of  rural  and  village  manners,  the  more  scrupu 
lously  rigid  are  its  fashionable  people  in  the  observance 
of  all  the  rules,  that  their  information  has  gleaned,  as 
belonging  to  the  punctilio  of  fashion.  For  instance, 
what  is  called  the  first  circle  in  this  village  is  more  se 
vere  in  its  punctilio,  than  in  the  city  of  C.  ;  and  fashion 
there  is  more  strict,  than  at  Washington  ;  and  at  Wash 
ington,  than  in  Paris.  Thus,  if  the  hour  is  2  in  Paris, 
it  will  be  3  in  Washington,  half  past  3  in  the  next 
place,  4  in  the  village,  and  so  down. 

In  the  large  tea-party,  that  was  assembled  this  eve 
ning,  the  silence  at  first  was  ominously  awful  ;  and  when 
that  was  broken,  there  was  much  more  said  about  fashion, 
and  much  clearer  indications,  by  the  different  speakers, 
that  it  was  a  thing  understood  in  the  extent  of  all  its  mys 
teries  here,  than  we  usually  witness  among  people  of  the 
haut  ton  at  Saratoga  Springs.  There  were  certainly  a 
great  many  good-looking  young  men  and  ladies,  among 
whom  were  the  half  a  dozen  belles  of  the  vicinity,  whose 
several  claims  to  superiority  of  beauty  had  not  yet  been 
adjusted.  There  were  magnificently  broad  Leghorn 
hats,  on  which  waved  a  whole  flower-garden  ;  there 
were  a  goodly  number  of  dandy  coats;  and,  on  the  whole, 
a  party,  who,  if  they  had  been  simple,  easy,  unaffected, 
and  unambitious,  might  have  passed,  not  only  a  pleasant, 
but  an  improving  evening  together.  But  odious  affec 
tation  and  vanity,  and  the  would-be  estimation  of  being 
acquainted  with  the  great  world,  and  distinguished  in  it, 
spoiled  all. 

Two  or  three  of  the  persons  here,  who  gave  the  tone 


146  GEORGE  MASON, 

to  the  fashions  of  this  village,  had  been  distinguished 
abroad,  and  as  far  off  as  Washington.  During  the  past 
winter,  they  had  been  at  New  Orleans.  They  had 
been  present  at  what  are  there  very  significantly  teamed, 
"  behaving  parties."  In  these,  as  the  name  imports, 
the  persons  present  are  supposed  to  be  on  their  good 
behaviour.  At  first  a  word  only  is  spoken,  under  the 
breath,  and  the  chief  part  of  the  amusement  consists  in 
looking  intently  round  the  apartments,  and  occasionally 
giving  one  foot,  as  it  lies  across  the  other,  a  gentle 
shake,  and  then  drawing  a  deep  sigh,  which  echoes 
through  the  circle.  Meantime  by  looking  at  the  foot, 
you  may  count,  by  its  gentle  and  regular  movement, 
the  pulsations  of  the  party,  and  the  state  of  his  health 
and  his  freedom  from  fever  may  be  ascertained. 

But  in  this  case,  after  tea,  and  before  the  candles 
were  brought  in,  there  was  a  kind  of  interregnum,  or 
democratic  rising  against  etiquette.  One  person,  who 
seemed  to  have  been  collecting  courage  for  the  emer 
gency,  pronounced,  by.  a  strong  effort,  a  broken  and 
kind  of  oracular  sentence,  and  instantly  looked  round, 
somewhat  alarmed,  to  see  what  he  had  done.  Harden 
ed  by  his  example,  forthwith  another  ventured  a  part 
of  a  sentence,  and  then  a  third,  at  intervals,  like  the 
minute  guns  at  a  funeral.  In  a  few  minutes,  it  became 
a  general  discharge  of  small  arms.  The  restrained 
propensity  of  the  "gab"  burst  forth,  and  there  was  a 
confusion  of  voices,  male  and  female,  which  has  gene 
rally  been  compared  to  that,  at  Babel  ;  but  which,  in 
my  ear,  much  more  resembles  the  chattering  of  a  full 
flock  of  blackbirds,  that  have  just  rested  upon  a  tree. 

George,  the  handsome  captain,  was  a  general  favor 
ite,  and  his  attention  was  sought  by  each  of  the  rival 
beauties,  who  strove  to  gain  it  by  praising  the  appear 
ance  of  his  sister,  which  they  had  just  settled  by  them 
selves,  in  private,  to  be  nothing  extraordinary,  or  in  any 
way  worthy  of  the  fuss  made  about  it.  Eliza,  too,  was 
surrounded  by  beaux,  who  were  teasing  her  about  her 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN, 


149 


fine  looks,  and  Mr.  Leonard,  and  her  allowing  conceal 
ment  to  feed  on  her  damask  cheek,  &tc.  A  very  con 
spicuous  character  in  this  kind  of  witty  conversation 
was  a  small  man,  much  dressed,  who  had  been  origi 
nally  bred  to  some  kind  of  mechanical  employment  in 
New-England,  but  had  been,  for  some  years  past,  em 
ployed,  very  much  to  his  own  individual  emolument, 
however  it  may  have  been  to  his  patients,  m  administer 
ing  pills  in  the  lower  country.  His  language  was  a 
most  curious  and  amusing  compound  of  yankee  dialect, 
west  country  phrase,  and  murdered,  pedantic,  med 
ical  terms.  He  was  administering,  in  his  way,  copious 
doses  of  flattery  to  Eliza.  Another  distinguished  per 
sonage  was  a  limb  of  the  law,  and  candidate  for  Con 
gress  ;  and  he  made  love  to  her  by  technicals  from  the 
law.  as  barbarous  and  ludicrous  as  ancient  law-latin. 

But  the  central  planet  of  attraction  was  a  young  mar 
ried  lady,  from  New  Orleans,  who  had  preceded  her 
husband  on  a  tour  to  the  north,  and  by  an  accident, 
which  had  happened  to  the  steam-boat,  had  been  drop 
ped  from  the  upper  spheres  of  fashion  into  tin's  village, 
to  await  the  passing  of  the  next  steam-boat.  Her  hus 
band  was  rich,  and  she  was  reputed  at  once  an  oracle,  a 
blue-stocking,  a  beauty,  and  a  wit.  It  is  certain,  that  she 
was  called  "  a  sweet  woman,  a  most  delightful  woman, 
a  heavenly  woman,  a  most  accomplished  woman,"  &c. 
in  common  language,  in  New  Orleans.  Finding  her 
self  cast  among,  what  she  considered  the  canaille  of  this 
village,  her  pride  suggested  to  her  to  remain  profoundly 
silent.  But  vanity  and  garrulity  carried  it  against  pride. 
She  soon  talked  incessantly,  used  snatches  of  bad 
French,  and  repeated,  for  the  tenth  time,  exactly  all  that 
she  had  said,  or  heard  said,  on  good  authority,  during 
the  past  winter,  about  the  theatres,  French  and  English, 
the  actors  and  the  plays,  the  balls  and  the  dancers, 
Scott  and  Cooper,  and  various  other  unfortunate  wights 
of  authors.  Up  went  one  to  the  clouds,  with  one  puff, 
and  away  went  another  to  the  shades,  with  a  counter- 
13* 


150  GEORGE  MASON, 

puff;  and  all  this  very  much  to  the  annoyance  of  an 
old  maid  in  the  village,  who  read  all  the  novels  in  the 
circulating  library,  and  had  been  accustomed  to  do  up 
the  literary  decisions  of  this  village  for  the  people.  She 
felt,  this  evening,  like  a  sceptreless  monarch,  to  no  pur 
pose.  Tlie  great  lady  from  New  Orleans  clearly  car 
ried  the  authority  and  the  conversation,  and  the  other 
had  nothing  but  the  cold  comfort  of  listening. 

A  very  considerable  circle  was  gathered  round  a 
young  French  planter  from  Louisana,  who  sojourned  in 
this  village  from  the  same  cause  with  the  preceding 
personage.  He  was  handsome,  flippant,  volatile,  vain, 
and  extremely  desirous  of  playing  the  amiable  ;  and 
was  delighted  with  the  circle  of  ruddy  cheeks,  that  were 
gathered  round  him  by  the  reputation  of  his  wealth  and 
amiability.  His  name  was  "  Polycarp  Boisvert,"  and 
the  ladies  were  immensely  civil  to  him,  under  the  name 
of  "  Puliiker  Bosware."  He  seemed  to  think  it  the 
proper  English  of  his  name,  and ,  said,  in  great  glee, 
"  By  gar  !  his  Hinglees  name  was  more  sweet,  as  his 
French  one."  To  the  few,  who  really  saw  through  the 
fact,  the  most  amusing  personage  of  the  whole  party 
was  a  stout  young  attorney  from  Louisiana,  who  per 
sonated  a  German  duke,  who  was  actually  travelling  in 
that  vicinity.  He  had  taken  up  a  clear  conception  of 
his  part,  and  sustained  it  extremely  well,  answering  with 
great  gravity,  in  broken  English,  all  ;he  questions  that 
were  proposed  to  him,  touching  Germany  ;  and  sup 
porting  with  due  humility  all  the  homage  which  was 
paid  to  him  as  duke. 

There  was  much  laughter,  and  much  wit,  real  or  at 
tempted,  criticism,  scanning  of  character,  discussion  of 
politics  and  great  men,  and  the  chances  of  candidates, 
and  books,  anil  religion.  To  be  short.  Call  the  thing 
a  soiree,  and  suppose  the  scene  at  Washington  or  Lon 
don,  and  I  am  confident,  it  was  precisely  the  same  kind 
of  Olla  podrida,  the  same  kind  of  memafentertainment, 
a  little  differently  garnished.  This  village  had  its  little 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  151 

and  great  world,  its  looking  up  and  looking  down,  its 
envious  and  envied,  its  rival  belles,  and  ambitious  doc 
tors  and  lawyers  ;  not  forgetting  the  editor  of  the  village 
newspaper,  nor  a  bitter  feud  between  Metbodist,  Bap 
tist,  and  Presbyterian  ministers,  which  should  gather 
the  chief  harvest  of  the  people  into  his  society.  As 
I  have  said  bofore,  there  is  no  good  reason  why  one 
place  should  call  itself  the  city,  par  eminence,  and 
think  that  politeness  will  die  with  it.  In  this  little  vil 
lage,  and  in  this  evening  party,  there  was  as  much  scope 
for  love,  hale,  envy,  revenge,  ambition,  hope,  arid  fear,  as 
there  was  about  the  throne  of  Napoleon,  in  his  most  flour 
ishing  days.  This  party,  with  some  little  allowance  for 
variety,  in  consequence  of  variety  of  guests,  may  serve, 
as  a  sample  of  all  that  preceded,  and  all  that  followed. 

From  August  until  October,  the  steam-boat  was  laid 
up,  and  George  spent  all  this  happy  interval  with  his 
mother.  As  they  were  continually  receiving  advances 
from  the  people  to  form  acquaintances,  it  could  hardly 
fail  to  raise  painful  impressions,  in  regard  to  human  na 
ture,  by  bringing  up  the  remembrance,  how  people  had 
shrunk  away  from  them  in  the  day  of  their  adversity. 
But  let  the  youthful  reader  remember,  that  while  our  ac- 
ceptableness  and  standing  with  society  depend  much  up 
on  appearance  and  circumstances  of  that  kind,  our  real 
respectability,  and,  w7e  may  add,  capacity  for  enjoyment, 
are  in  our  own  keeping,  and  depend  upon  ourselves. 
A  family,  like  this,  in  which  the  good  will  of  the  world 
is  met  by  corresponding  good  will,  but  which  does  not 
at  all  depend  upon  that  for  enjoyment,  is  fitted  for  any 
condition,  solitude  or  society,  poverty  or  riches. 

Before  I  take  leave  of  George,  I  wish  to  satisfy  the 
curiosity  of  the  reader,  touching  another  important  point 
of  his  fortune.  I  count  nothing  on  keeping  him  in  sus 
pense.  Our  hero  is  now  married,  and  is  considered  a 
young  man  of  the  most  rising  fortunes  of  any  in  the  vi 
cinity  of  his  residence.  He  has  already  been  solicited 
to  stand  a  poll,  as  candidate  for  congress,  and  has  been 


152 


GEORGE  MASON, 


seriously  advised  to  open  a  lawyer's  office,  and  get  a 
touch  of  the  law,  for  by  the  unhappy  consent  of  the 
country,  all  great  officers  must  enter  the  temple  of 
Fame  through  that  vestibule.  Even  in  the  circumstances, 
that  determined  him  in  the  choice  of  his  wife,  he  evin 
ced  his  kind  feelings,  his  nobleness  of  mind,  and  his  pe 
culiar  character.  He  was  returning,  in  the  following 
spring,  from  New-Orleans,  and  was  passing  by  a  small 
town  in  Indiana,  not  far  above  the  mouth  of  the  Wa- 
bash,  with  his  cabin  crowded  with  passengers  ;  among 
whom  were  many  fastidious  ladies,  who  affected  great 
delicacy.  Every  birth  had  been  already  taken.  The 
ladies'  cabin  had  been  extended,  so  as  to  take  in  a 
number  of  the  gentlemen's  births,  by  drawing  a  curtain 
across  the  apartment.  While  the  boat  stopped,  just 
above  this  village,  to  take  in  wood,  a  couple  of  young 
ladies  came  down  the  bank,  and  requested  a  passage, 
stating,  that  they  were  on  their  way  to  Wheeling,  in 
Virginia.  They  were  tall,  slender,  flaxen-haired  girls, 
dressed  plainly  in  crape,  and  in  deep  mourning,  and,  as 
those  who  saw,  declared,  with  countenances  of  uncom 
mon  interest  and  beauty.  Such  was  the  report  of  them 
that  was  made  by  the  gentlemen  among  the  ladies.  As 
it  happened,  when  they  made  this  application,  the  cap 
tain  was  busy  on  deck,  and  knew  nothing  of  it.  In  his 
absence,  the  clerk  acted  for  him.  He  came  into  the 
cabin,  slated  the  circumstances  of  the  application,  and 
asked  the  ladies,  if  any  arrangements  could  be  made 
for  ih<?ir  admission,  adding,  that  they  seemed  to  be  ex 
ceedingly  eager  to  obtain  a  passage  at  any  rate,  and 
that  thpy  appeared  to  be  in  trouble,  for  that  he  had  ob 
served  them  in  tears,  when  he  expressed  to  them  his 
doubts,  about  their  being  able  to  get  a  place  in  tho 
ladies'  cabin.  A  gentleman  from  the  shore,  at  the 
same  time,  informed,  that  they  were  orphan  mourners, 
and  young  ladies  of  uncommon  interest,  and  that,  al 
though  he  knew  little  about  them,  he  was  anxious  that 
they  should  be  accommodated  with  a  place.  The  gen- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  153 

tlemen,  generally,  seemed  to  feel  as  he  did,  and  pro 
posed  to  the  ladies,  to  allow  them  to  come  in,  if  it  were 
only  to  have  a  place  to  spread  a  mattrass  on  the  floor. 

Sorry  I  am  to  state,  that  the  circumstance  of  •  their 
being  lovely,  orphans,  mourners,  and  in  tears,  did  not 
appear  at  all  to  make  in  their  favor  with  the  ladies. 
They  almost  unanimously  affirmed,  that  they  were 
crowded  beyond  bearing  already  ;  and  the  fair  conclave 
began  to  exercise  their  inventive  talents,  in  discussing 
them,  and.  their  case,  with  very  little  ceremony,  and  not 
with  an  excess  of  mercy  either.  Particularly,  a  young 
lady  with  a  pug  nose,  a  scornful  toss  of  the  head,  and 
an  uncommonly  fine  dress,  declared,  that  for  her  part, 
she  wanted  no  weeping,  die-away  young  ladies,  with 
their  weeds  on,  she  dared  to  say,  only  because  they 
thought  they  rendered  them  lovely  and  interesting  ;  and 
that  she  was  sufficiently  dull,  and  melancholy  already. 
Another  young  lady  said,  "  pretty  they  might  be,  but 
they  were  the  most  awkward  and  unfashionable  things 
in  the  world,  that  their  dowdy  clothes  were  made  like 
nothing  she  had  ever  seen,  and  that  she  wondered, 
where  the  gentlemen  could  find  any  thing  interesting  in 
such  people."  Others  said,  "  if  they  were  poor,  as  seem 
ed  to  be  generally  supposed,  let  them  go  on  deck  with 
the  other  poor  people."  In  short,  the  ladies  decided,  by 
a  gneat  majority,  against  admitting  them  into  the  cabin. 

The  clerk  went  out,  and  reported  this  decision  to  the 
young  applicants  on  the  bank.  They  were  observed  to 
weep,  and  converse  together  a  moment,  and  then  they 
came  to  the  clerk  and  told  him,  that  circumstances 
were  imperious  with  them,  and  that  they  wished  to 
come  on  board,  even  if  they  went  on  deck.  He  in 
formed  them,  that  they  could  take  a  passage  there,  if 
they  chose,  and  begged  them  to  make  their  election, 
for  that  the  boat  was  just  ready  to  start.  The  elder 
gave  her  hand  to  the  younger,  and  led  her  on  board, 
and  the  plank  was  taken  in,  and  the  boat  got  under 
way.  The  clerk  showed  them  on  deck,  where  there 


154  GEORGE  MASON, 

were  two  hundred  passengers,  among  whom  were  many 
families  with  females  of  reputable  character,  but  evi 
dently  altogether  ill  assorted  with  theirs.  As  soon  as 
they  reached  the  top  of  the  ladder,  and  took  a  survey 
of  the  company  above,  they  turned  as  pale  as  death,  and 
recoiled  from  mounting  any  higher,  than  the  first  roof, 
On  a  vacant  space,  just  above  the  companion  ladder, 
the  fair  and  shrinking  girls  sat  down  on  chairs,  which 
the  clerk  handed  them.  They  drew  down  their  veils, 
and  sat  with  their  faces  towards  each  other  under  the 
full  sun,  and  as  motionless  as  statues. 

Before  night  many  of  the  gentlemen  had  felt  a  de 
sire  to  walk  upon  deck,  and,  in  so  doing,  had  scruti 
nized  the  countenances  of  the  mourners  through  their 
veils.  If  any  of  the  cabin-ladies  dreaded,  as  is  possi 
ble,  the  interest  they  might  create  on  board,  they  could 
not  have  taken  a  more  effectual  method,  to  create  it  in 
the  highest  degree,  than  by  causing  them  to  be  excluded 
from  the  cabin.  A  strong  feeling  of  sympathy  was  ex 
cited  in  their  favor.  Their  beauty,  loveliness,  and  ap 
parent  grief  started  every  generous  and  romantic  feel 
ing,  and  instantly  put  in  operation  the  creative  powers 
of  imagination,  to  eke  out  a  romance  for  them.  Every 
gentleman  on  board  had  been  to  examine  their  names 
on  the  clerk's  book.  It  was  a  warm  and  pleasant  Sab 
bath  morning  in  spring,  when  the  woods  were  in  blos 
som,  the  air  inspired  languor,  and  the  day  forbade  cards 
and  the  usual  modes  of  killing  time ;  and  the  men  were 
tormented  with  ennui  ;  and  this  was  just  the  kind  of 
subject  to  relieve  them,  by  curiosity,  from  the  oppressive 
burden  of  their  time.  I  know  not  how  it  happened, 
that  so  strong  and  immediate  an  interest  was  created  in 
the  strangers'  favor.  But  so  it  was.  It  seemed  to  be  gen 
erally  made  out,  that  they  were  of  good  family,  but  poor, 
and  had  seen  better  days,  and  had  now  but  just  so  much 
money,  as  would  carry  them  on  their  way,  and  not 
enough,  to  allow  them  to  remain  and  board,  until  anoth 
er  boat  should  come  along.  A  benevolent  gentleman, 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  155 

on  this  presumption,  started  a  subscription  in  their  fa 
vor,  and  it  was  immediately  filled  up,  to  the  extent  to 
pay  their  passage  in  the  cabin.  The  clerk,  whose  wife 
was  on  board,  and  who  occupied  one  of  the  state  cabins, 
was  persuaded  to  relinquish  it  in  their  favor,  making  ar 
rangements  with  the  pilot  to  occupy  his  cabin. 

All  these  circumstances  were  told  to  the  captain, 
whose  imagination  and  feelings  were  awakened  in  a 
moment  by  the  story.  He  was  requested  to  carry  the 
mourners  the  amount  of  the  subscription,  and  inform 
them  of  the  arrangements  in  their  favor,  and  invite  them 
to  descend  to  the  cabin.  The  captain's  bosom  was 
thus  made  bare  for  the  infliction  of  a  wound.  His 
heart  misgave  him,  as  he  saw  these  interesting  fig 
ures,  arm  in  arm,  in  a  dress  of  deep  mourning,  which 
indicated  all  the  ingenious  devices  of  proud  and  inven 
tive  poverty,  to  make  it  decent.  The  thought  of  his 
mother  and  sister,  immediately  after  the  death  of  his 
father,  rushed  upon  him.  Under  such  circumstances 
he  executed  his  commission.  The  elder  of  the  mourn 
ers  drew  up  her  veil,  as  the  captain  addressed  her,  and 
showed  a  face  so  lovely,  pale,  and  subdued  by  sorrow, 
as  could  not  fail  to  awaken  pity,  and  with  that  a  deeper 
feeling  in  a  heart  constituted  like  his.  She  appeared 
to  be  touched  and  affected  with  such  an  unexpected 
expression  of  sympathy  by  people,  who  could  not  be 
supposed  to  know  any  thing  about  them.  She  said  in 
reply,  that  she  wished  only  to  explain  so  much  of  their 
circumstances,  as  to  prove  to  their  benefactors,  that 
their  kindness  had  not  been  bestowed  either  upon  the 
unworthy,  or  the  ungrateful.  She  wished  them  to  be 
informed,  that  they  thankfully  accepted,  what  was 
thus  generously  offered,  and  that  they  were  orphans, 
who  had  lost  both  father  and  mother  during  the  past 
winter ;  that  they  had  resided  on  the  Wabash,  that  they 
were  returning  to  the  residence  of  their  grandfather  in 
Pennsylvania,  and  that  their  friends  might  easily  divine, 
without  the  humiliation  of  any  acknowledgment  on  their 


156  GEORGE  MASON, 

part,  why  they  were  so  anxious  to  get  on,  as  to  be  willing 
to  take  a  passage  on  deck,  ralher  than  not  be  forward 
ed  at  that  time  ;  but  that  they  might  explain  one  cir 
cumstance  of  the  urgency  of  their  case,  that  they  ex 
pected  a  relative  at  C.  who  would  be  prepared  to  at 
tend  them  on  their  journey,  and  defray  the  expenses  of 
it,  if  they  were  there  within  a  given  period  ;  and  that, 
she  hoped,  these  circumstances  would  be  a  sufficient 
apology  for  the  seeming  impropriety  of  their  being  found 
on  deck. 

It  was  but  a  few  moments,  that  they  conversed 
with  George,  and  in  those  few  moments,  they  had,  in 
deed,  shown  themselves  intelligent,  beyond  what  could 
have  been  expected,  in  their  case  ;  but  otherwise  had 
said  nothing,  but  what  any  well  informed  girls  would 
have  said  in  the  same  case.  But  the  clearness  and 
simplicity  of  expression,  the  music  of  her  tones  of  voice, 
the  mingled  dignity,  humility,  and  pensiveness  of  the 
countenance  and  manner  of  the  elder  of  the  girls,  (her 
name  was  Jane,)  left  an  indelible  impression  upon  his 
heart.  He  returned,  and  related  the  result  of  his  com 
mission  to  the  almoners,  and  naturally  conveyed  some 
thing  of  the  coloring  of  his  own  imagination  and  feel 
ings  into  the  story.  In  fact,  in  conveying  -their  thanks 
and  their  apology,  he  had  unconsciously  given  a  most 
vivid  encomium  of  the  orphans,  and  the  ladies  rallied 
him  on  the  spot,  as  heart-srnitten  by  these  all-conquer 
ing  "  deckers,"  as  they  were  called. 

There  was  on  board  one  of  those  ancient  maidens, 
who,  by  the  help  of  a  little  ivory  in  front,  false  curls,  a 
little  touch  of  the  mineral  pigments,  and  sweet-scented 
washes,  hold  time  at  bay.  But  the  depth  of  their  ex 
perience  proves,  against  all  appearances,  and  all  efforts 
to  the  contrary,  that  they  have  heard,  seen,  and  reflect 
ed  much,  that  days  have  spoken  to  them,  and  years 
taught  them  wisdom.  This  lady  knew  every  body,  and 
especially  every  body's  genealogy.  The  marriages  of 
any  consequence,  that  had  been  contracted,  or  were 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  157 

now  ripening  within  three  hundred  miles,  were  all  well 
known  to  her,  with  all  the  whys  and  wherefores,  and 
how  the  thing  began,  proceeded,  and  terminated.  She 
knew  all  the  beauties  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  espe 
cially  those  of  any  fame,  and  the  exact  amount  of  the 
expectation  of  every  heir  and  heiress.  In  short,  she 
was  a  living  newspaper  tablet,  an  immense  slate,  on 
which  all  the  passing  news  was  written  out,  to  be  ef 
faced,  when  a  new  and  more  important  edition  of  news 
was  to  be  circulated.  With  less  data,  than  will  enable 
an  algebraist  to  make  out  an  equation,  she  was  able  to 
tell  every  thing  about  every  body.  Withal  she  pos 
sessed  one  of  the  essential  requisites  of  poetry,  inven 
tion,  and  such  a  happy  talent  at  guessing,  that  she  sel 
dom  failed  to  make  out  a  story,  that  corresponded  pret 
ty  accurately  with  the  fact. 

When  the  little  romance  of  the  orphans  began  to  cir 
culate  in  the  boat,  with  the  help  of  the  facts  that  the 
captain  had  communicated,  she  instantly  divined  them 
from  alpha  to  omega.  "  Wi,y,  la  !  "  said  she,  "  sure 
enough  ;  it  is  wonderful,  I  should  not  have  known  them 
at  sight  ;  they  are  the  Misses  Belden.  Their  father, 
I  knew  him  well,  was  Michael  Belden,  only  child  of  the 
famous  old  miser  Belden  of  Lancaster  county,  Penn 
sylvania.  The  old  hunks  owns  half  the  county.  Mi 
chael,  the  father  of  these  girls,  fell  in  love  with  a  pretty 
Yankee  tailoress,  that  was  hired  to  make  clothes  in  the 
family,  and  besides  was  fool  enough  to  marry  her. 
You  know,  I  came  from  Lancaster,  and  I  have  met 
both  the  parties  often.  The  only  apology  for  Michael, 
in  the  case,  was,  that  this  poor  girl  was  as  beautiful,  as 
wise,  and  as  good,  as  an  angel.  As  soon  as  the  father 
was  apprized  of  it,  he  made  the  house  too  warm  for 
them  at  once.  He  drove  them  out,  bag  and  baggage. 
Neither  of  the  parties  had  a  sous.  The  father  was 
compelled  to  give  his  son  a  few  hundred  dollars,  by 
way  of  compensation  for  having  lived  with  him,  after  he 
was  twenty-one.  But,  after  all,  they  were  so  destitute, 
14 


158 

that  some  of  their  Dutch  relatives  made  them  up  a  purse, 
by  way  of  charity  and  for  the  credit  of  the  name.  So 
the  two  lovers  gathered  their  all  together,  and  moved 
off  to  this  Western  country,  and  settled  on  the  edge  of 
a  beech^orest,  by  a  beautiful  prairie,  on  the  Wabash. 
I  have'tfeen  told,  that  it  was  a  perfect  love-and-a-cot- 
tage  life,  that  they  led.  They  had  many  children.  But 
the  country  was  sickly,  and  all  the  children  died,  but 
these  pretty  girls.  Last  winter  both  the  parents  died 
of  typhus  fever,  and  left  these  orphans  nothing  but 
a  log-house  and  prairie  field,  that  they  tried  in  vain  to 
sell.  A  friend  wrote  about  their  case  to  the  relatives  of 
the  old  miserly  grandfather.  The  story  spread,  and  they 
were  represented  as  more  destitute  than  they  were.  A 
very  considerable  breeze  was  raised  in  the  case,  and 
such  was  the  indignation  against  the  old  man,  that  they 
talked  of  putting  a  guardian  over  him.  Terror  at  the 
idea  of  the  possibility  of  taking  his  estate  out  of  his 
hands,  caused  him  so  far. to  open  his  purse,  as  to  send 
for  them,  to  come  on,  and  live  with  him.  I  dare  war 
rant,  that  he  sent  money  on  a  calculation,  that  they 
should  take  passage  on  deck.  For  the  old  fellow  him 
self,  it  is  well  understood,  that  he  intends  all  his  im 
mense  property  shall  go  to  a  rich  relative  in  the  old 
country." 

It  was  found,  by  comparing  her  story  with  what  oth 
ers  knew,  that  the  ancient  chronicler  had  spelled  out 
the  narrative  nearly  according  to  the  fact.  In  any 
point  of  view,  the  more  George  saw  them,  the  deeper 
were  his  impressions.  Their  manners,  their  astonish 
ing  acquisitions,  considering  where  they  had  been  rear 
ed,  their  loveliness,  their  being  disinherited  orphans, 
even  their  humiliation  in  being  driven  on  deck,  con 
curred  to  raise  a  spell  round  his  imagination,  in  their 
favor.  I  cannot  say,  whether  they  slept  well  the  fol 
lowing  night,  but  it  is  said,  that  the  captain  was  more 
nervous  and  wakeful  than  usual,  often  returning  wrong 
answers  to  those  who  asked  him  cuestions.  The  first 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  159 

half  of  the  night,  he  voluntarily  consented  to  take  the 
helm  on  deck,  though  out  of  his  turn.  As  it  was  a  clear 
and  lovely  night,  and  as  the  boat  skimmed  prosperously 
up  the  beautiful  wave  of  the  Ohio,  he  chose  to  spend 
the  other  half  of  the  night  on  the  bow,  watching  the 
stars,  and,  no  doubt,  occupied  with  a  multitude  of 
pleasant  thoughts,  associated  with  the  study  of  astron 
omy. 

To  be  brief.  He  had  only  two  days,  in  which  he 
could  expect  to  have  the  lovely  orphans  as  passengers. 
He  had  a  special  inclination  to  say  something  private  and 
particular  to  them.  But  every  body  on  board  seemed  lo 
have  the  same  object,  and  they  appeared  solicitous  to 
shrink,  as  much  as  possible,  from  notice  and  observation. 
Fifty  times  he  thougHt  his  courage  up  to  the  point  of  tell 
ing  Miss  Jane,  how  she  had  made  him  feel.  Fifty  times 
he  found  his  duties,  as  captain,  leading  him  to  the  part 
of  the  boat,  where  they  sat.  But  still,  when  he  came 
up  to  them,  his  speech  clung  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth. 
At  length,  he  walked  resolutely  np  to*  a  chair,  near 
where  they  sat,  breathed  hard  three  or  four  times,  and 
inly  repeated  his  adage.  Upon  that,  he  soon  began  to 
be  so  particular  in  his  conversation,  as  to  give  Miss 
Jane  the  hue  of  high  health,  however  pale  she  had  been. 
a  moment  before.  But,  let  not  the  reader  imagine, 
that  he  was  abrupt,  or  awkward,  in  ordering  his  speech. 
It  was  well  studied,^  and  he  was  much  in  earnest.  He 
was,  as  I  have  attempted  to  show  the  reader,  a  fine 
young  man,  in  the  best  and  highest  sense  of  the  word. 
But,  independently  of  that,  he  was  a  fine  fellow,  in  tho 
sense  in  which  the  ladies  understand  the  term  ;  that  is 
to  say,  he  was  remarkably  handsome,  a  fine,  upright, 
square  figure,  with  a  bright  eye,  and  the  nobility  of  na 
ture  marked  upon  his  manners,  without  a  touch  of  any 
thing  awkward  or  vulgar  about  him.  Besides,  those 
who  have  powers  and  keen  sensibilities  themselves,  in 
stinctively  ken  these  attributes  in  others ;  and  it  is  a 
fact,  that  Miss  Jane  had  seen  all  this  in  George,  and 


1  GO  GEORGE  MASON, 

had  imagined  more  than  she  had  seen.  Jn  truth,  she 
had  heard  from  the  ancient  maiden,  aforesaid,  all  about 
him.  That  good  soul  was  an  icicle,  as  touched  any 
hopes  for  herself,  and  desponded  of  ever  managing  such 
a  concern,  for  her  own  particular  benefit.  But  still  she 
divined,  how  others  felt,  and  had  a  kind  of  reflected  en 
joyment  in  managing  such  an  affair  for  them.  This 
kind  of  agency  had  something  of  the  pleasure,  and  none 
of  the  penalties  and  dangers  of  love-making.  So  she 
told  Miss  Jane,  what  she  had  inflicted  upon  the  captain, 
and  from  that  ran  on  in  the  most  wonderful  eulogium  of 
him,  painting  him,  in  every  relation,  thrice  more  a  mira 
cle,  pattern,  and  mirror  of  chivalry,  generosity,  and 
saintship,  than  he  or  any  other  person  ever  was ;  and 
she  added,  "  My  dear,  you  have  him  fast  in  your 
chains.  Only  manage  your  power  right." 

So  'Miss  Jane  was  somewhat  prepared  for  the  de 
claration  in  question  ;  and  she  heard  George  to  the  end, 
for  he  fairly  made  love  to  her,  and  offered  himself  in 
form.  After  all  the  usual  preliminaries  of  blushing,  and 
sighing,  <^c.  she  told  him,  in  the  customary  style,  "  how 
much  obliged  she  was  for  his  good  opinion,  &c.  ;  but 
she  thought  him  altogether  too  sudden  in  coming  to 
such  a  decisive  resolution,  and  the  acquaintance  too 
short  to  warrant  it,  and  that  she  was  in  no  condition  to 
make  any  definite  reply  to  such  a  proposition."  But, 
when  she  saw  his  countenance  fall  very  much,  on  re 
ceiving  such  a  damping  reply,  she  told  him,  that  "  al 
though  she  could  not  warrant  it,  she  could  not  doubt, 
but  her  grandfather  would  be  happy  to  see  him  at  his 
house."  Upon  this  hint  other  conversation  ensued,  until 
it  was  understood,  that  George  was  to  make  an  excur 
sion  over  the  .mountains,  to  the  county  of  Lancaster, 
when  his  boat  should  be  laid  up,  this  summer.  George 
made  this  promise  of  a  journey  something  in  the  form 
of  a  threat,  and  Miss  Jane  answered  in  a  tone  of  good 
natured  defiance,  that  she  was  sure  sister  Sarah  would 
be  p  eased  to  see  him,  to  which  sister  Sarah  very 
graciously  assented. 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  161 

When  they  arrived  at  C.,  George  gave  himself  par 
ticular  interest  in  all  that  related  to  sending  them  on 
their  journey  from  that  place  in  the  stage.  An  ancient 
Dutch  relative  of  their  grandfather's  was  there,  and 
waiting  to  accompany  them.  George  assured  them, 
that  he  had  much  rather  it  had  been  himself,  who  should 
perform  that  office ;  and  as  the  Dutchman  aforesaid 
was  a  little,  old,  time-dried,  and  hard-hearted  fellow, 
as  little  promising  in  the  inner,  as  the  outer  man,  1  have 
no  doubt,  that  Miss  Jane/* in  her  heart,  would  have 
wished  the  same  thing.  The  next  day  after  their  ar 
rival,  George  saw  them  safely  deposited  in  the  stage 
with  the  little  Dutchman;  and  the  stage  drove  off,  with 
very  little  parting  remark  between  them.  But  it  is  sup 
posed,  that  this  speech  had  been  made  in  private,  and 
that  Miss  Jane  had  said  some  words  of  comfort,  which, 
interpreted  by  a  lover's  glossary,  had  a  considerable  de 
gree  of  explicitness. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  it  was  understood  that  George 
wa.o  to  marry  Miss  Jane  Belden.  His  mother  approved 
his  disinterested. spirit ;  for  it  was  generally  remarked 
by  the  young  ladies,  that  George  had  been  caught  by 
a  pretty  face,  and  nothing  else.  His  disinterestedness, 
as  some  called  it.  and  his  folly,  as  others  had  it,  was 
the  more  famous,  for  it  was  matter  of  common  parlance, 
that  he  could  have  married  an  heiress,  in  the  vicinity, 
if  he  would.  On  the  first  day  of  the  following  August, 
George  was  on  his  way  over  the  mountains.  Some 
times  it  seemed  to  him  a  wild-goose  chase  in  reflection 
upon  his  object.  But  he  comforted  and  assured  him 
self  in  these  misgivings,  by  taking  the  flattering  unction 
of  disinterestedness  and  sympathy  to  his  soul.  He  was 
set  down  from  the  stage  at  a  tavern,  on  the  declivity  of 
a  noble  hiir,  from  which  a  broad  sweep  of  a  valley  was 
to  be  seen.  Jn  the  view  there  were  mountains,  rivers, 
noble  country-houses,  villages,  and  two  large  towns, 
and  a  dozen  spires,  and  much  beautiful  still  scenery 
near  at  hand.  In  the  distance,  the  grand,  turreted  niau- 


162  GEORGE  MASON, 

sion  of  Mr.  Belden  displayed  itself,  above  the  summits 
of  orchards,  and  forest  trees.  George  inquired,  in  a 
faltering  voice,  of  the  landlord,  about  the  young  ladies  ; 
whether  they  had  arrived  safely ;  how  they  were  ;  and 
whether  they  were  kindly  received.  The  landlord  was 
a  Dutchman  himself,  though  he  spoke  good  English. 
George  began  to  tremble  ;  for  he  saw  by  the  tones  and 
manner  of  the  host,  that  the  young  persons,  about  whom 
he  asked,  were  persons  of  very  different  estimation  in 
his  mind,  in  regard  to  their  wealth  and  importance, 
from  what  they  had  been  in  his  own.  He  immediately 
put  himself  in  an  attitude  of  respectful  oratory,  and  be 
gan  to  relate,  how  they  arrived,  and  were  received. 

"Two  months  ago,"  said  he,  "they  got  out  of  the  stage 
at  my  house  ;  and  sweet  girls  they  were,  and  admired 
by  every  body.  They  asked  me  about  their  grand 
father,  and  you  would  have  thought  Miss  Jane  would 
have  fainted,  as  she  inquired  about  him.  1  could  see 
how  their  dear  hearts  trembled,  for  fear  he  would  not 
receive  them  kindly.  I  gave  them  all  the  comfort  1 
could.  But  heaven  help  them  !  There  was  but  little 
comfort  in  the  case.  It  was  thought  he  had  invited 
them  from  the  back  country,  only  out  of  fear,  and  that 
he  haled  them  for  making  him  afraid.  At  any  rate, 
he  set  about  making  a  will,  to  leave  every  thing  he  had 
to  his  uncle,  Vandergraff,  in  Germany. 

"  He  received  the  dear  girls,  but  not  as  grand  children. 
He  dressed  them  only  as  servant  girls,  and  wanted 
them  to  run  about  after  the  cows  and  sheep,  and  would 
fain  have  put  them  to  loading  hay  and  wheat.  It  may 
be,  they  did  not  manage  to  suit  him  ;  for  he  was  said 
to  be  particularly  hard  with  them,  and  people  began  to 
stir  more  briskly  for  them  than  before,  now  they  had 
seen  them.  Every  body  was  indignant,  that  such  love 
ly  orphans  should  be  disinherited,  and  that  all  his  riches 
should  go  to  a  person  beyond  the  seas,  that  nobody 
cared  any  thing  about.  The  old  talk  of  a  guardianship 
was  renewed,  and  stronger  than  ever.  The  people 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  163 

were  as  one  man  about  it.  Every  body  signed  a  pe 
tition  to  the  orphan's  court,  setting  forth  that  the  old 
man  was  in  his  dotage,  and  requesting  that  a  guardian 
might  be  put  over  him.  The  affair  got  wind,  and 
reached  him  at  the  same  time  with  an  order  of  notice, 
to  attend  the  said  court,  and  show  cause,  if  any  he  had, 
why  the  prayer  of  the  petition  should  not  be  granted. 
He  took  the  best  step  in  the  world  to  prove  his  sanity, 
by  making  a  will  immediately,  in  the  mi  ;t  authentic 
form,  giving  every  thing  to  his  grand  daughters,  as  soon 
as  he  died — which  happened  in  a  few  days  ;  for  he  was 
so  prodigiously  frightened,  at  the  idea  of  having  the  dis 
posal  of  his  property  taken  out  of  his  hands,  that  he 
took  immediately  to  his  bed,  and  died  in  a  week." 

Alas  !  poor  George.  Away  went  his  sympathy  and 
disinterestedness  to  the  winds.  The  tables  were  sadly 
turned  against  him.  He  had  been  jolted  over  the 
mountains,  night  and  day;  and  he  had  _  soothed  his 
aching  bones,  and  his  misgiving  mind,  with  the  idea  of 
kindly  rescuing  two  pensive,  and  ill-treated,  and  disin 
herited  girls  from  a  brute  of  a  grandfather.  He  had 
imagined  their  grateful  tears.  He  had  fancied  the  im 
pression,  that  his  manifest  freedom  from  all  mercenary 
motives  would  make  upon  such  a  heart  as  that  of  Miss 
Jane.  Indeed,  he  well  remembered,  that  she  had 
dwelt  upon  that  aspect  .of  his  offer,  when  he  made  it. 
What  a  complete  reverse  of  the  case  offered  itself!  It 
had  now  an  appearance,  as  if  he  had  come  with  views 
diametrically  opposite.  The  paternal  mansion  was  full 
in  view,  and  of  an  aspect  of  opulence  and  grandeur  to 
petrify  him.  The  family,  too,  was  precisely  the  cap  of 
the  climax  of  the  ancient  German  grandees  in  the  coun 
try.  The  landlord  affected  to  speak  of  the  defunct 
with  familiarity,  and  to  call  him  by  hard  names;  but 
his  tones  and  his  looks  manifested,  that  the  wealth  and 
grandeur  of  the  family,  in  his  eye,  were  not  unlike  the 
sanctity  and  importance  of  the  Grand  Lama  to  a  devout 
disciple.  He  evidently  felt,  that  though  the  man  had 


164  GEORGE  MASON, 

died,  his  houses  and  farms,  his  name  and  influence,  had 
revived  in  the  young  ladies,  representatives  of  the  first 
Dutch  family  in  the  country.  He  took  advantage  of 
the  astounded  silence  of  George,  to  run  over  the  cata 
logue  of  the  estates  and  mansions,  left  to  the  young 
heiresses,  and  to  state,  that  they  were  already  looked 
upon  as  game  for  fortune-hunters,  all  the  way  to  Phila 
delphia.  To  mend  the  matter,  he  added,  that  they  would 
have  good  advisers,  and  would  not  be  likely  to  be  caught 
easily  ;  but  that  he  hoped,  Miss  Jane  would  lend  a 
favorable  ear  to  the  suit  of  the  young  gentleman  who 
represented  them  in  Congress,  and  that  he  rather  be 
lieved,  she  had  given  him  encouragement,  that  it  would 
be  received  graciously.  Miss  Sarah,  loo,  it  was  gene 
rally  believed,  was  spoken  for.  At  any  rate,  they  were 
matches  for  the  first  and  best  in  the  land. 

George  pretended  to -hearken  to  a  great  deal  more, 
and  to  some  indirect  inquiries,  what  his  business  was 
with  them.  But  before  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  of 
his  host,  his  thoughts  were  a  thousand  leagues  off.  His 
first  reflection  was,  that  as  affairs  stood,  his  chance  was 
not  worth  a  farthing  ;  and  that  he  should  only  show 
himself  a  fool,  to  expect  Jane  to  be  the  same,  now 
that  their  relative  standing  was  so  completely  reversed. 
He  had  seen  enough  of  the  hardening  influence  of  the 
world,  not  to  expect  that  she  would  catch  it  like  the 
rest.  He  could  hardly  forbear  a  bitter  smile  at  the 
thought  of  his  fancied  condescension  and  disinterested 
ness.  His  pride,  his  courage,  and  his  hopes,  were  all 
sinking  together.  But,  said  he,  recurring  to  his  old 
maxim,  "  '  Don't  let  us  give  up  the  ship.'  Faint  heart 
never  won  fair  lady.  Such  were  my  feelings,  and  so 
free  from  all  mercenary  mixture.  True,  she  may  never 
know  that.  What  care  If  I  am  a  free  man,  and  the 
son  of  a  free  man.  My  noble  father  was  worth  a 
dozen  Dutchmen,  however  rich.  I  am  his  son,  and  I 
have  that  here,55  (laying  his  hand  on  his  bosom,)  "  that  is 
as  proud  as  the  best  of  them.  Suicide  is  against  my  prin- 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  165 

ciples.  My  heart  may  swell  awhile  with  pride  and  love. 
But  I  will  try  to  survive  it  all.  I  took  the  pretty  mourn 
ing  witch  into  my  cabin,  when  I  was  the  patron,  and 
her  fortunes  kicked  the  beam.  It  was  her  humility  and 
her  weepers,  that  stole  my  heart  away.  Now  let  her 
marry  the  Congress  man,  and  dismiss  the  steam-boat 
captain,  if  she  will.  For  my  part,  I  think  I  had  best 
whistle  back,  and  not  go  near  her  to  get  the  flat.  Her 
head  is  turned,  no  doubt,  with  her  change  of  fortune. 
Why  such  a  mercenary  and  proud  woman  would  have 
made  a  bad  wife." 

So  thought  George  with  himself.  In  short,  the 
young  man  had  goaded  himself  up  to  a  passion  of  jeal 
ousy,  by  the  creations  of  his  own  brain,  and  he  was 
trying  to  lay  in  a  stock  of  courage  and  submission,  to 
stand  him  back,  by  crying,  "  Sour  grapes  !  "  But  he 
mentally  added,  "Suppose  I  were  just  to  go,  and  show 
myself  as  proud  as  they,  and  let  them  see,  with  what  a 
careless  face  I  can  say,  Good  bye."  This  view  of  the 
matter  determined  him  to  go  and  try  his  fortune.  Thus 
ruminating  with  himself,  in  a  most  uncomfortable  brown 
study,  he  walked  down  the  hill.  Just  to  prove  to  him 
self  that  he  was  indifferent  how  matters  were  like  to  go, 
he  hummed  a  tune,  and  began  to  affect  that  apparent 
indifference,  that  might  have  imposed  upon  another. 
But  when  he  opened  the  gate,  and  walked  up  the  grand 
avenue,  his  pulse  were  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  the 
minute.  When  he  seized  the  bell  knob — for  it  was  one 
of  your  grand  houses — his  heart  was  in  his  shoes.  A 
servant  in  livery  came  to  the  door.  George  observed, 
that  "  he  wished  to  call  on  the  young  ladies,  if  they 
were  at  home,  and  at  leisure." 

"  Please  to  send  up  your  name,"  said  the  servant ; 
"  the  ladies  only  receive  particular  company  at  pre 
sent." 

"  The  Congress  man,  I  suppose,"  thought  George. 
By  mere  accident  he  happened  to  have  a  card  in  his 
pocket.  So  he  wrote  on  it,  that,  passing  that  way,  he 


166  GEORGE   MASON, 

wished  to  send  his  respects,  &c.  The  servant  took  up 
his  name,  and  during  his  absence,  George  was  con 
vinced,  that  the  metaphysicians  had  reason,  who  said, 
that,  "  the  only  true  measure  of  time  is  the  succession 
of  ideas."  In  a  minute,  as  clocks  measure  time,  and  in 
a  day  by  the  other  measure,  the  sweet  and  low  voice  of 
Miss  Jane  was  heard,  asking,  "  Is  it  possible,  that  Mr. 
Mason  could  think  of  passing  without  visiting  us  ?  "  He 
had  whipped  himself  up  to  such  an  idea  of  being  a  lov 
er  rejected  from  mercenary  motives,  and  to  such  an 
effort  of  right  and  allowable  pride  and  resentment  in  the 
case,  that  he  could  not  instantly  let  himself  down  to  her 
affectionate  and  heart'-felt  tones.  Her  countenance  and 
manner  banished  all  such  thoughts  in  a  moment.  But 
they  could  not  in  a  moment  banish  ail  traces  of  the 
storm  from  his  brow.  He  went  in,  and  took  the  seat 
that  was  placed  for  him,  between  the  two  sisters.  Be 
fore  the  visible  cloud  had  passed  away  from  his  face, 
Jane  had  drawn  from  him  a  partial  avowal  of  his  recent 
thoughts,  touching  the  premises.  The  cloud  was  im 
mediately  transferred  from  his  brow  to  hers.  He  had 
never  seen  any  expression  in  her  countenance,  but  what 
was  as  mild  as  the  sweet  South.  But  there  was  now 
considerable  flashing  in  her  eye,  and  a  somewhat  stejrn 
remark,  thab,  "  she  should  always  distrust  the  man,  who 
could  think  so  meanly  of  her,  as  to  suppose,  that  her 
views  of  any  one  would  be  changed  by  her  fortunes," 
adding,  that  u  a  jealous  lover  would  be  sure  to  make 
a  bad  husband."  Her  feelings  were  evidently  aroused, 
and  there  had  like  to  have  been  a  counter  scene  of  he 
roics.  But  Sarah,  who  saw  how  the  wind  was  setting, 
and  the  paleness  on  the  cheek  of  the  agitated  parties, 
took  the  hand  of  George,  and  said  with  great  self- 
composure,  "  Never  mind,  Mr.  Mason,  you  and  I  have 
had  no  quarrel  in  this  matter.  I  will  see  what  can  be 
done  for  you,  if  my  sister  continues  in  a  passion."  This 
well  timed  interlude  enabled  the  parties  to  recover  their 
good  temper,  and  it  was  manifest,  that  they  were  too 


THE  YOUNG  BACKWOODSMAN.  167 

much  in  earnest,  to  dare  torment  one  another,,  and 
George  had  soon  an  entire  confidence,  that  she  had  the 
same  heart,  as  an  heiress,  that  she  had,  as  an  orphan. 

A  few  words  more  will  bring  the  history  of  the  fam 
ily  down  to  the  present  time.  Jane  returned  over  the 
mountains,  as  Mrs.  Mason.,  and  brought  her  sister  with 
her.  Mr.  Leonard,  too,  contrary  to  all  the  sinister  pre 
dictions  of  the  young  ladies  in  the  village,  came  back  a 
fortnight  sooner,  than  Eliza  Mason  expected  him,  and 
they  were  married.  The  whole  happy  party  made  an 
autumnal  trip  to  the  Iron  Banks.  Pompey,  the  con 
verted  slave,  according  to  George's  promise,  was  pur 
chased  from  his  master,  and  set  free.  But  his  grateful 
heart  bound  him  to  Mrs.  Mason  and  her  family  by  the 
new  and  delightful  tenure  of  gratitude.  I  do  not  say, 
that  these  people  are  all  perfectly  happy.  But  they 
tlove  one  another,  and  are  the  helpers  of  each  other's 
joy.  Though  they  have  the  other  evils  of  mortality  to 
struggle  with,  they  have  no  fear  of  poverty,  and  as  they 
have  benevolent  and  generous  hearts,  affluence  has  de 
scended  upon  them,  as  a  refreshing  shower,  spreading 
happiness  and  abundance  all  around  them. 

My  dear  youthful  reader,  whenever  you  are  in  any 
way  tempted  to  discouragement,  remember  the  old  max 
im,  that  "the  darkest  time  in  the  night  is  just  before 
day."  Exert  yourself  in  hope.  Be  industrious,  and 
while  innocent  and  diligent,  respect  yourself,  and  hold 
yourself  inferior  to  no  one.  Trust  in  God.  Never 
despond,  and  assume  the  genuine  American  motto, 
fi  Don't  give  up  the  ship." 


FINIS. 


14  DAY  USE 

RN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 
LOAN  DEPT. 


aaie  co  wnicn  renewed, 
lewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


LD  21A-50m-8  '57 
(C8481slO)476B 


.General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


